Some quick notes, and a new blog

an anniversary… WordPress recently informed me of the 8-year anniversary of this blog. Their note came in the form of this little thingy: Do you see what they did there? If you look closely, you may notice that what they actually acknowledged was the ‘registration’ of this blog. That’s a smooth move on their part,…

On Love

It is said that God is Love. And in one sense, this may be so. But to say that God is Love is to say that Love is God. And this is not so. The two are not equal, or the same, or interchangeable. Better to say God is. And also, Love is. But what is…

Creative Watermelon

The game of Creative Watermelon is not a complicated one. It’s simply a matter of lying on your back on your father’s bed and staring up at the popcorn ceiling to see what kinds of shapes you find up there. It’s a lot like looking up at the clouds in the sky, only the ceiling…

Saturday in the park, madness descending

Indians play cricket every Saturday morning on the tennis courts. You’d think cricket matches would play out better on the baseball diamond, which no one ever uses for baseball, but most of the players crowd themselves to the left of the nets, and balls hit to the right rarely make it to the one or…

The Booth Option

Randy’s band is playing tonight. I haven’t seen Randy since that time I met him in that dive in Dallas. He got there ahead of me and was on his second beer, had his ear buds in at a booth by himself, black ball cap low over his eyes saying don’t bother me. And that’s…

Dr. Littlejohn Gets Carried Away

Ah, a crisp, autumn morning, a cup of French roast, and just a nip of opium. But not too much! I’ve a lecture at the Academy at noon, and need catching up on the latest in electrophysiology for my closing remarks. But it is early yet. Just a pinch in my pipe, and a look…

Standing in the shower thinking

The heel of my hand accidentally hits the wall of the shower and a resonant bass note sounds. I strike the wall of the shower again, start to pound out a drum beat with my knuckles and the fat part of my fist. Long-dormant synapses fire, the beat of an old song rises in my…

The Bad Thought

Yeah, do you come up with your own thoughts? I think so. Do you? Cause I had a thought the other day that wasn’t mine. What was it? F@#k God. Oh my. Yeah. That’s — that’s awful. Yeah. But it wasn’t mine. It wasn’t your thought? No. I didn’t think it. Who did? What do…

Rachel doesn’t

Rachel is going to call tonight. This is a big deal. I will have to be on my game. There must be charm, exuberance, a certain joie de vivre, as the French say. I don’t know what this means, I’ve just heard they say it, and it sounds good in my head. Something to shoot…

Hope calls

Friday Night The phone rings. I hate it when it does that. I answer anyway. “Walt?” “Yes.” “Hi. Umm…” I blink. Wait. “I just wanted to call. My name’s Hope.” I’m sitting on my bed, facing the window. I check the clock on my nightstand, wonder where my ride is. We’re going to be late. “Okay…”…