Blowing bubbles makes me sad. I blame Macy Gray.
Against the backdrop of a changing climate and the scorched redwood forest visible from my deck – a scar of 2020’s CZU Lightning Fire – the bubbles seem to be teaching my young child a hard lesson about life. The beautiful things in this world are only temporary.
The Sun is a Cube
He was a prototypical San Lorenzo Valley resident, dressed somewhere between lumberjack and Deadhead. He wore dirty boots with Carhartt coveralls over a tie-dyed t-shirt, and home-sheared locks of sandy blond hair hung from the sides of a camouflage-print baseball cap that featured an orange Stihl logo.
“That idea came from Jerome, the dishwasher”
A little over two years ago I had the opportunity to interview a well-known tech CEO for a profile I was writing for a local magazine in Silicon Valley. His company is now publicly traded, and at the time it was regarded as one of the fastest-growing startups in the country… (continued)
“We’re switching to three-ply!”
I’ve since learned that “Switching to three-ply” is a joke that people sometimes make to imply they’ve gotten a raise and no longer need to use cheap toilet paper. But at the time, I was not familiar with this joke. (continued)
“Grout!” The Musical
It was from Mrs. Knibb, our middle-school health teacher, that my classmates and I first learned about drugs. We knew drugs existed beforehand, of course – we were harangued by various figures that we should say “no” to them from the time we were very young. Local cops brought puppets to our classroom to warn…
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Surrealist Nonfiction 