July 13, 2020

|Created by

Bob Dylan

Rough and Rowdy Ways

“Today tomorrow and yesterday too / the flowers are dying like all things do…” Bob Dylan has done hoodooed the hoodoo man on his heart-splitting new album, which begins with the aforementioned words, and lets it be known he sees the end and doesn’t flinch. Of course, Dylan has always been like that: unafraid to confront the bottom line reality that not everything lasts, and life can be as fleeting...

The first time I came to Port Aransas, I found the bayside nature preserve by following the simple rule of walking away from where everyone else is going (the beach). It was a hot August afternoon, and the wetlands were dry and shallow enough to walk right across. There were no signs, and I didn’t even realize I was in a preserve until I saw the first observation decks. The birds were not too active, but the landscape was memo...

July 10, 2020

Since his election, Donald Trump has been a mirror, held up to us Americans and propelling us to ask: How did we get here?

I am the son of an Air Force brigadier general and served myself to the rank of colonel. Of my 57 years drawing breath, I’ve spent 51 of them directly or indirectly serving this once great nation. So, as you might imagine, I found myself on Nov. 8, 2016, more than a little dismayed at the news we had elevat...

July 9, 2020

|Created by

Marshall Chapman 

Songs I Can’t Live Without

When it’s time to throw some black cat bones and light the voodoo candles. this new Marshall Chapman album would be a good listening companion. The woman whose voice often sounds like it’s coming from the other side of the spirit world rounds up some favorite songs written by other people, and then puts her personal stamp on them so strong it’s like they’re chiseled onto a tombstone....

June 30, 2020

        (not a poem, just a prattle)

~ with apologies to Bob Wills and Asleep at the Wheel ~

Who's that guy with the red tie on? Some folks call him Donnie 

Might even get elected again, although he is a phony

Send him back to Tulsa, He’s too dumb to serve thee

Send him back to Tulsa, He’s not Presidentially!

We’re all stuck. All maladjusting. In this together or just lusting

For days better in laughing crowds and some...

June 25, 2020

Look at me! Look at me! cry the blossoms of the weeping cherry. I was on my way to watch morning prayer on the Internet when the flowers ambushed me with their glory. Look at me! Look at me! cry the daffodils. Even though the slow, gentle rain has bent their heads face downward, their bright petals hold my attention while the urgent tasks on my agenda go ignored. My community, my country, and the world are mobilized, each pers...

June 14, 2020

|Created by

April 4, 1968 – New York City

As you press on for justice, be sure to move with

dignity and discipline, using only the weapon of love.

Let no man pull you so low as to hate him. Always avoid violence.

If you succumb to the temptation of using violence in your struggle,  unborn generations will be the recipients of a long and desolate night of bitterness, and your chief legacy to the future will be an endless reign of meaningless...

June 12, 2020

Madison Grant (Yale College 1887, Columbia Law School) liked to be photographed with a fedora, or just his dauntingly long head, tilted about thirty degrees to the right. He belonged, like his political ally Teddy Roosevelt, to a Manhattan aristocracy defined by bloodline and money. But Grant, like many young men of his vintage, felt duty-bound to do more than enjoy his privilege. He made himself a credible wildlife zoologist,...

June 10, 2020

|Created by

My sometimes exciting career as an Austin cab driver began in 1977 when, looking for something better from a base of zero, I walked to 90 East Avenue, home of Roy’s Taxi, for the shortest job interview I’ve ever had. East Avenue serves today as an access road to IH-35, as it did then, but it was originally a dividing line between downtown Austin and east Austin — a perfect location for any cab company, but especially Roy’s Tax...

That highly anticipated first sip of morning coffee had just crossed my lips when I involuntarily spewed it out Danny Thomas style, in what the vaudevillians used to call a “spit take.” The action was not for comic effect, but out of fear. A face had suddenly appeared, staring in at me from outside the kitchen window. To make matters worse, it was the

maniacally grinning face of Travis Redfish.

I sensed in an instant that it wa...

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