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  • Indifference

    From my novel, Attachment Patterns It came from the back of the room, a soft, shy voice. “Mr. Boone, what is it you like about art?” (Talk about questions.) “Jesus, I don’t know, I just do it.” More giggles and grins and Dad smiled in return. He pondered a moment. What did he like about…

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  • The Exhausted Age

    An interesting phrase came across my desk recently.  The Great Exhaustion.  It seems that all over the world a vast number of people are tired.  Burnt out.  Stressed out.  Overwhelmed.  It apparently makes them want to lie down and take a nap.   Okay, not really.  By nap, one is referring to sleep.  In this case, it’s more…

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  • Grandchild

    Yes, it’s happening, something grand. The news came out of nowhere, a complete surprise.  “Okay, what do you think this is,” asked my lovely daughter, she and her husband, showing us an image on her cell phone.  My wife and I had no idea.  It looked like a small, swirling whirlpool.  (“A hurricane in the…

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  • A (Surprise) Review

    Much to my surprise, a review appeared on Amazon for my recently self-published collection of essays, Crossing the Meadow.  I certainly didn’t expect it but here it is.  (Thank you, Jim!) Imagine you’re flying from the West Coast to London. It’s a very long flight, and you can’t get to sleep. The passenger sitting next…

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  • Crossing the Meadow

    Crossing the Meadow. A metaphor for a writer’s life. Walking through a world you imagine in your head.  This collection of short pieces is divided into four sections.  Plays, Movies and Words are about the adventures of a working writer. The Desperate Man are some early shouts and murmurs about fatherhood and family. Dog-Dumb entails…

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  • Beautiful Jerk

    As hard as it is to believe, I directed a feature film once.  Yes, a real full-length movie, one that had producers and designers and actors and and a several million-dollar budget.  I rarely tell people about it because if I did, they might want to see it and I really don’t want to inflict…

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  • The Journal Writer

    Amazing the things you stumble upon when going through old boxes of papers and scripts.  There it was – a blue, old, hard-covered notebook.  I hardly recognized it.  I opened it and immediately saw scribbles.  No, not scribbles – penmanship.  Words legibly handwritten in deep blue, probably with a fountain pen.  At the top of…

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