By my late twenties, it had gotten so bad I could barely sleep. Many people toss and turn after, say, a baked brie or Blazin’ Buffalo Wings. But at twenty-eight, even less-quarrelsome foods—steak, carrots, celery, pork chops, hummus, jicama...
Last day for the Rivera mural; we can see a narrow section from over the near rail. Against a ribbon of hills and low sky one man swings a hammer, another an axe.
I’m an old man-not as old as Robert Frank was when I last saw him, but old. And now that I’m old, most every night an overflow of memories, doubts, regrets, images, and yearnings chew at my brain and keep me from sleeping. Still, come...
On the train to the museum, at the Embarcadero stop with my father, I start to get emotional. Tender as ever, having told a woman who loves me I cannot, or can no longer, love her.
If you could move anywhere, where would it be? This used to be a question I’d ask myself or others at dinner parties or in fits of fancy, but two years ago, as new parents facing both the unsustainable costs of Bay Area life and the looming...
Overhead the Kentucky sky was clear and went on forever. I don’t really remember how we parted or where I went after, only that he wanted to stay awhile, that at some point he hugged me, tucked a cig behind his ear, and started down toward...
