Featuring the writing of Buzz Anderson
Aunt Dotsie was a superlative artist. She created hundreds of beautiful pieces—landscapes, portraits, still lifes, water scenes, and a host of other subjects. She photographed her work and kept the images in a big binder. She had the idea to write poems to go along with her paintings and then publish them in book form.
However, the words did not come easily.
So she asked me to write poems for her.…
I found myself the father of three teenagers (a five-year age span). But in reality, I played the role of old-school male role model for about three dozen other young hellions. …
In the past few weeks, Jennie and I have taken a couple of road trips relating to my historical novel, Five Hundred Moons. These were short, two-day excursions—just long enough to feel rejuvenated and offer some relief from our daily routine.
Our first getaway was to the small valley town of Colusa……
There is a saying that I’ve heard, “Granddaughters are the best reminders of the beauty and innocence of childhood.” I find that to be true……
Sixty-six years ago, in 1957, the 49ers played the Detroit Lions in an NFL playoff game at Kezar Stadium. My father, uncle, and two other prune ranchers from South San Jose had season tickets, and they were all looking forward to attending the game. As luck would have it, my dad became ill a couple days prior and told my uncle to take his son……
“Knowledge is the ultimate virtue.”
“An honest man is always a child.”
“The unexamined life is not worth living.”…
Some of my earliest memories are cuddling up in a dog fort surrounded by the earthy smells of a canine lair, then falling asleep with my head on a soft, warm, furry belly.…
A young man walked into the store and asked to speak privately to the owner. He seemed nonthreatening, so I invited him into the office and offered him a seat. He didn’t sit down but instead reached into his pocket and pulled out a $100 bill…
Recently, I had occasion to wear an old camelhair coat to a memorial service. The coat previously belonged to my father. It’s warm, still stylish, and fits me well. While putting it on, I reached into the inner pocket and felt a folded piece of paper….…
Just before the sun dipped into the western horizon, a golden aperture appeared near the mouth of the Pajaro River, a bright orange reflection from a glass window, angled just right as to shine brightly into our eyes. The occurrence brought to mind the green light that appears in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby…