I don’t know

I get so confused, frustrated, aggravated, pissed, whatever about the state of the world today. I have succumbed to the notion that the world is beyond my ability to change it. For the longest I decided that if I held out in stalwart defense of the ideas of the old world (the old world as in pre-Y2K) then I could just wait until things began to make sense again.

I don’t see things making sense again.

So where does that leave old fogies like myself?

I don’t know.

the tiny bug

A bug was bothering me today. It irritated me endlessly. I tried to ignore it. Honestly I did, but it would not go away. Not matter how much I wanted it to leave me alone, it was still there. Continue reading

Me and Lefty McGee

Everything’s all set, but you need to know that I’m gonna miss my kidney. I’ve had that particular kidney since birth and have grown rather fond of it. Sure, I never gave it a name but now that it’s gone I shall call him Lefty McGee. That’s called irony because those guys removed my right kidney. They were careful when they did it, I just wish they had been as careful sewing me up afterwards. It’s still tender and red around the incision. I’m sure a little antibacterial ointment will stop the puss from oozing out of it. Continue reading


I used to think I was good at researching. I used to think finding the perfect name would make the story progress at a swifter pace. I used to think I the perfect title would allow the entire story to magically develop on the page.

It never occurred to me that every time I did my outstanding research I was not actually writing. It never occurred to me that I only did this research when my story was lagging. When I was stuck I would begin to obsess over things like a name, a last name, the title, a chapter title, the name of the store owner where the protagonist bought a soda. These things are not important.

I keep confusing writing with editing. Writing should be creative. The words should flow unabated. The perfect name or perfect title should come during the editing phase. Editing during writing is merely procrastination.


My thoughts on 9/11

Today is 9/11 and a lot of people have strong feelings about what happened in New York 15 years ago. Not a lot of people know where I was on that day. I was connecting beams on the 7th floor of a new building in Stamford, CT. It was a nice job site, right on the Long Island Sound where we could usually count on a breeze or two cooling us off periodically. Across the sound I could see Manhattan, I could see the NYC skyline. Which is why I thought it was weird that huge plumes of smoke were billowing across the water.
My partner and I were commenting on how big that fire must be for us to see it. We stared at it as a beam was being hoisted to us. I had a bad feeling about the sight of all that smoke. Even if I didn’t know why… I knew it wasn’t good.

Continue reading

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