How life informs our political perspective
My brother Bill wrote a political memoir. It’s well-researched and well-argued. While I may not agree with everything in it, much of what he writes hits home.…
Featuring the writing of Buzz Anderson
My brother Bill wrote a political memoir. It’s well-researched and well-argued. While I may not agree with everything in it, much of what he writes hits home.…
Jennie and I just got back from a four-day visit with friends in Santa Fe, New Mexico. We stayed in the Las Campañas area, home of one of the three couples that made up our traveling group. It was a beautiful place on the high mesa, populated by piñon pines and surrounded by the Jémez and Sangre de Cristo mountain ranges. The sunsets were otherworldly, intensified by thunderheads and the occasional lightning strikes. The day temperatures fluctuated from the mid-seventies to the high eighties—perfect weather for the seven-thousand-foot elevation.…
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.…
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……
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.”…
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…
I talked of growing up in Capitola and my family’s history in the area, realizing, within sight, I could point out several places that sparked childhood memories. …