A Rough Moon




I miscalculated the number of people a two person tent can sleep.  Turns out it’s just one: that is, one teenaged daughter.  A skinny teenaged boy could have fitted along one edge, but I parked close enough to ensure not even a picture of a skinny teenaged boy could sneak into that tent.
I also miscalculated how many halves of a tired dad can sleep comfortably on the bench seat of a compact pickup truck parked in the woods.  Turns out it’s just one.  Because the top and bottom halves of most dads sleep in one piece everywhere but very severe car accidents, and because bench seats in modern pickup trucks are not really bench-shaped, and because I had difficulty routing the air hose from my CPAP machine around my folded body, I slept badly last night.
But hey, that’s camping.  It’s only supposed to be comfortable for the kids.




Aug. 25, 2013




The End of Osama Bin Laden: It’s Never the End

Osama Bin Laden is finally dead,
one cheap bullet to the head.
What it really cost is what I dread.

We want to feel good about something.  At the same time, feeling good might not really feel so good.  These muscled issues have pushed against our collective moral fiber for a decade (or longer).  We can’t agree on the nature of these forces, but we will share the catharsis of this apparent resolution.  Yes, it feels good–we’re stuck with that for now.  Let’s have a Bud and wave our flag.  But tomorrow, let’s have coffee and make plans to patch the holes we’ve put in that flag.  It’s life we should be celebrating, not death.

June 26, 2011