I don’t realize how out of it I am after an operation until looking back a month later. There I was, the morning after the surgery. “Morning after” seems apt because it’s like a hangover, except without the really bad headache but with no prospect of
Blog
Charles River
Ezra Klein’s recent interview with Kathryn Bond Stockton on how we think about gender brought to mind an awkward situation I created four decades ago. I still cringe at the direct question I asked someone I hardly knew. However, it led to reflections
A Mockingbird’s Song and Abraham’s Silence: Revised
I’ve substantially revised my July 22 post, “A Mockingbird’s Song and Abraham’s Silence.” Sometimes posting an essay, exposing it to the light, is what it takes to show me its flaws. For one thing, why should a religious skeptic care about the story
A Mockingbird’s Song and Abraham’s Silence
Revised August 1, 2022 1 Our first mockingbird in several years arrived this spring. I want to say I missed him, which I did, but of course, the one we now have isn’t the same one from before. Still, like his predecessor, his call is a
Justin, My Own Farewell
1 When I picked up the ringing phone, I heard a recording of a man howling in agony. How despicable of a robo-caller to disseminate such a heart-rending sound. I hung up. Half an hour later, the phone rang again. It was my brother, crying, but now
Regret
The subject of regret has been on my mind after a month of disturbed insomniac nights as I began my recovery from a broken femur (thigh bone) and surgery. My focus is now on physical therapy and the slow return to normal. However, those early, rather
Shall I compare thee to a sweltry day? Poem and Commentary
Shall I compare thee to a sweltry day? By Johann Sebastian Shakespeare Shall I compare thee to a sweltry day? Thou art more dismal and less temperate. Long ago flow’red the darling buds of May That now droop and wilt, green fuses past
The Reptile in the Capitol
A member of my writing group recently sought to defend a character for blaming his bad behavior on a woman character’s provocative clothes: “He’s obviously mad at her for the sequined dress stunt, but shouldn’t he be?” "That doesn't justify rape,"
Libby Speaks 1: Introduction and “The Homeless Problem”
Introduction: Inspiration for the five Libby speaks stories In 1948, Giovanni Guareschi published his first volume in a series of charming Don Camillo stories. The series has three recurring characters. Don Camillo is the priest of the town’s
Libby Speaks 2: Sex Matters
Council Member Gavin Kane, Democrat, was incensed. Max Morano and his fellow Republicans had vowed to fight a proposed law to make sexual harassment a firing offense. Gavin signed into his Twitter account. “Once again, Max Morano stands in the way
Libby Speaks 3: Squeaky Shoes
Tina Millette told her boss, Council Member Gavin Kane, that a constituent was making life difficult in the public area of their district office. “I can hear the shouting in here with the door closed,” Gavin said. “What does he think this is?
Libby Speaks 4: Plastic Bags
Republican City Council Member Max Morano was taking a Diet Coke break with Irma Jansen, his chief of staff. “I can’t believe the city’s Democrats passed the plastic bag ban. Totally counterproductive. The plastic bags I take home with me from the
Libby Speaks 5: Healthcare
Tina Millette waltzed into Democratic Council Member Gavin Kane’s office, as usual, without knocking. “There’s an item in the Gazette about Max Morano’s mother having gone through a successful course of treatment for colon cancer at the Baltic Creek
Disability Appropriation
To accuse a work or its author of cultural appropriation can be to censor a possibly sincere attempt to celebrate fellow human beings. The same can apply to claims of disability appropriation. In my view, the focus should be on countering it, not
Vladimir Putin and Self-Hatred
So many human qualities can be inversions of what they seem. Hatred of someone else can be hatred of oneself. To punish another can be to engage in self-punishment. The subject of inversion came up the other evening during the rebroadcast of Dick
Me Me Me
In my posts to this website, as well as in my fiction, I’m conscious of writing from the point of view of an individual. The argument goes that when we depict personal experience, we speak for many others, even the whole of human experience. But do
Looking Back on a Mediation Program from the COVID Era
For the past twenty-two months, my old office, the New York State Attorney General’s complaint mediation program, has been empty but for two people: a file clerk and a staff member who processes the day’s mail. COVID-19 is the explanation, of course.
A Song, A Companion
I recently came across Jackie Trent’s obscure recording, “When Summertime is Over.” It took me back to the summer of 1965, after I’d forced the authorities and my parents to free me from boarding school, where I’d been unhappy and homesick. I’d twice
The English Garden Rose
The many-petaled spiral of the English garden rose against the green of a mown lawn and the blue of a nearly cloudless sky brings feelings of wellbeing to our hearts and minds. It sparks a spring day with red, yellow or orange. It is lovely and
Disability and Censorship
Advocates for people with disabilities believe that central to the fight to end so-called ableism is the censorship of words that could cause offense and perpetuate harmful stereotypes. I’m already risking controversy with the phrase “people with
Courage Cells: A Story
Who would I be if I forgot the teacher who coaxed me past my math phobia, or the time my boss bailed me out and then reamed me out after I got a client into a disastrous investment, or the glowing loveliness of my wife Jane on our wedding day? Memory
Gonna to Texas
Hey y’all, Getting into that Texas spirit!! Just itching to climb into those cowboy boots and hitch up these Texas-size britches for a spell. I’ve put in an order at the airport’s rent-a-gun store for a Glock and holster. The wife says it makes
The Garage Door: A Story
That afternoon, we had our cab driver let us out at the driveway to our apartment building’s underground garage. “Why is the garage door opening?” Alison said, as she got out. Her voice was muffled by her mask, a murkiness I’d never grown used to
Righting the Wrong Word
A few months ago, drafting my response to a questionnaire in advance of an upcoming interview in connection with Caroline, I wrote the phrase “fiction’s ghetto.” Here’s the question and my original answer: Q: Do you have a target reader? A:
Bacon Jam
Could any food name excite more disgust? Yet bacon jam is what my friend and neighbor turned up with at my door three weeks ago. He said it was “amazing,” but he’s always saying something or someone is amazing. If they’re not amazing, they’re