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Easing my way into the day. Listening to a special Sleepy Hollow on my favorite Philadelphia based member-supported radio station WXPN on Thanksgiving morning. Usually, the program is on Saturday and Sunday mornings. At noon, I will enjoy another holiday tradition, the airing of Alice’s Restaurant. I know it by heart, having heard it so many times…

My writing writes me. Sometimes the words come through while I am awake, eyes wide open. Much of what pours out arrives in the wee hours, while in dreamland. This morning’s missive was one of those. Recently I was speaking with someone whose view of himself was dim. He had impossibly high standards, with the intent…

Funny, the things you remember all these years later. When my mom was on hospice back in 2010, she told me at one point that she still had all her marbles. I knew what she meant since when my dad was in the last few months of his life in 2008, his were outside his grasp…

In a recent conversation, a metaphor came to me. I am a writer, after all, and symbols pop into my head like a full to bursting, hot on the stove pan of Jiffy Pop. I was speaking with someone about anxiety and depression and the ways in which we lose focus when they are snagging…
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