It’s the end of the year as we know it

And I feel fine.

Here are a few memories from 2007. Happy new year, folks.

The porcelain teacup was smaller than usually seen in America. And it was a teacup, not a mug. Alongside the cup was the spoon. A small, wrapped windmill cookie was perched on the edge of the saucer.

The sun shone down through the window of the café. Shoppers and tourists passed by my view of the narrow bricked street outside my perch inside the café. I sipped my tea. I opened the cookie and cracked a piece off to nibble on. I smiled to myself and inhaled another puff of the skunky smoke.

Amsterdam, April 6, 2007



I opened that email with a rush of hope; I closed it with the crush of despair. Simple, well chosen words that told me I was not the one. I had led myself to believe there was more than there was; I needed it so badly, but I didn’t know how much it showed.

So much hope and promise. Yet, it was like hearing the 7th note in music, it was an incomplete relationship, destined not to rest.

I met a friend later that night. He could read it on my face. I mumbled some excuse about my work situation, and have tried to move on.

I wish he could have called. I still wish he would.

Home, March 15. 2007


Three minutes passed; three more miles closer; twenty minutes to go. He calculated the number of times he’d have to say no to himself before he could let it rest at work. Quitting could not be easier; quitting could not be more distracting.

Each mile was another minute he’d made it.without smoking a cigarette. It was a curious challenge in that he had very little physical urge or need to smoke. It was nearly all mental. He could say no. It was just a matter of saying no a lot.

Fortunately, his background in Calvinism made that part easy.

Day one of not smoking for the rest of my life

Home, June 18, 2007


My friend smiled back at me, and whispered, “darlin’ you wouldn’t have to tie me up, but you could.”

Before us, a generously furry blond and stocky man in a kilt was being trussed up like a turkey; his partner watching intently. My friend and I were here on a little R & R. Summer fun with a buddy from Cleveland who I hadn’t seen in two years. We had had shared a very special weekend then, and were happy to share another. B & D demo night at Touche was merely a sideshow to what we were doing to each other in our heads and later in bed.

And when the morning light comes streaming in, you get up and do it again. Amen.

Chicago, August 10, 2007