Welcome to the 
Wink wins!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
A short entry this week.  Before attending to the title, above, I would like to mention the following small evils as things that are so clearly wrong with the world that “there oughter be a law.”  In no particular order, these are:
Trucks kicking up rocks on the highway
The lock-step of mass culture
Health insurance
Partisan politics
Intrusive waiters
Vapid music
The John Pierce Experiment
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
About a year ago, my friend Melissa, whom I have known since high school, sent a tidbit about author Dan Levitin who encountered John Pierce, the man who invented the transistor.  Pierce, in his eighties, had never knowingly heard any rock music.  How one can live in a developed nation and achieve this, I do not know, but when Levitin discovered this curious deficit, the two had a little heart-
Through the Black Gate
Monday, June 1, 2009
People have such a habit of asking, “So, what’s new?” but this harmless act of generosity often becomes a genuine puzzler, as it leaves one having to determine just how sincere is the question––Is it something weightier than mere social graces?––and how much information does the questioner really want?  Amongst good but geographically distant friends who see each other only infrequently, a
We Are Turtles
Friday, May 15, 2009
In one of my favorite Waterboys songs, chief Waterboy Mike Scott writes, “Grandma, we are Jonah––rolling along in the teeth of the whale.”  I was forcibly reminded of this sentiment yesterday.  I’d taken my boys to a playground called Fortress Park, a space dominated by a host of wooden fort-like climbers, and after we’d tired of chasing each other up the stairs and down the slides, I suggested
Nightjars opens 4/18/09 - Be there!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
One thing about theater (and writing in general): There’s hardly ever a rush.  Material makes it into print or onto the stage in its good ol’ time.  So it has been for Nightjars, a piece I wrote almost four years ago now, as it finally wends its way to the stage.  Having now seen a dress rehearsal, I can say with confidence that anyone and everyone reading this should come see.  Granted, metro
Let us take it as axiomatic that blogging is the ultimate in self-indulgent writing, a kind of diaristic braying, a desperate printed plea to a generally uncaring universe to sit up and take note.  
To defeat somewhat this dire observation, I hereby declare this to be an anti-blog.  My anti-blog will confine itself to just a few topics, thus preventing random rants and railing, in favor of a (mildly) focused attempt to sort and sense the world through my particular prism.
The prism though which I cannot help looking includes my life as a stay-at-home father, writer, husband, and hobbyist.  I intend to address the following: Parenting issues, the arts, the environment, and those political arenas, both local and national, that affect any of the former three.
I reserve the right to ignore typos.  I reserve the right to be wrong, or at least to weigh risky opinions.  I reserve the right to reinvent the wheel.  I reserve the right to be curmudgeonly in order to make a broader, hopefully valid, point.  I reserve the right to be a cock-eyed optimist.  I reserve the right to add material as frequently or infrequently as life and predilection allow.
And finally, I reserve the right to demand that the universe sit up (straight) and take note.  After all, I have something to say.