Category Archive: relationships

Five years

She avoided eye contact when she said it, kind of a “oh ho hum just offhand thinking maybe you could…” sort of thing. But when she said it, I wanted to hug the… Continue reading

Dentists, razor blades, and new friends

I didn’t know yet that another layer of institutional bureaucratic chicanery was going to keep me from getting my teeth cleaned yesterday afternoon, so I sat in the waiting room with the other… Continue reading

Krishna and friends

Somewhere along the line I stopped buying things. Friends back home were accustomed to my travel and didn’t need more stuff, but when some of my dearest folks found challenges early in 2017,… Continue reading

Yes, Valentine’s Day kinda sucks. But.

Can we all agree: Valentine’s Day sucks? Okay, not completely. Some wonderful love stories will begin or advance today, some wonderful memories celebrated and refreshed. But outside of the outliers, it kinda blows.… Continue reading

Working man’s Buddha

The street was the kind of dark you can’t find in America. But this was Ninh Binh, Vietnam, and the only thing to compete with the single tangerine street lamp were the blue… Continue reading

I miss my friends

Well, the good news is, almost everybody got a job. I’m trying to focus on that. The woman in her early 40s with the big smile, and the shy younger woman (who swears… Continue reading

My experience with refugees

Refugees don’t come to America for a handout. They don’t come to take anyone’s job. They come because they are like you and me.

Discouraged and recouraged

  I knew right away that I wanted this man to be my mentor. It was just obvious. He had no kids, my father died when I was four, he was a legend… Continue reading

Alone together in Tarifa

If Spain were a big, worrisomely lumpy breast, then Tarifa would be the downward-sagging nipple, poking across the Strait of Gibraltar at my goal for the day: Morocco. But Tarifa was also the… Continue reading

Hemoglobin, non-terrorism, and adorable despite a little racism; in Panama City.

I was a happy little red blood cell. Biding my time before entering the veins of Venezuela, I was promenading through the pulse of Panama, crossing arterial roadways to meander beside the lymphatic… Continue reading