I’ve been told that I’m a dark, raw writer, and sure, that about covers it. By this I mean, give me a topic as innocent and celebrative as the successful home birth of my first child, and I’ll wind up presenting the teaser, then take you on a circuitous tour…

Funny… not so funny… how my father, always the evangelical atheist, never mentioned that someday down the line, when I truly needed a spot of faith, a few shots of tequila might have to suffice: sole diversion to the plainness of facts. When he meets my flight from Berkeley, his…

Here I am, right now…walking around Seattle, my new home…finding a spot to sit near Pike Place Market, lots of people swirling around me busy doing lots of stuff. Yet I am Fred Flintstone. …

If someone living twenty years ago (don’t even think about forty) were to witness the way we are connecting right now — this thing called Medium, as if thousands of us, this diversity, each morning poured in around a big breakfast table to share stories and thoughts and chop it…

What comes back to me first is how Lalo used to call huddles. Any decision, even the most sinister, required a huddle to get everyone on the same page. Rip off Balducci’s for a crate of oranges to sell? First we all had to commit. Leave a few on the…

I was first approached by Nextdoor when I moved with my family to Seattle last year. Nextdoor: a relatively new but flourishing national website, segmented into neighborhoods, whose stated goal is “to provide a trusted platform where neighbors work together to build stronger, safer, happier communities.” It encourages locals to…

I remember standing beside him in our driveway, he in his unbelted terrycloth robe and sagging Fruit of the Looms, crouched slightly with gritted teeth, waving like hell as the last of my jock crew pulled away for the green pastures of college. He looked certifiable there, my Dad did…

Gene wakes up when he likes, but it is always early. He’ll eventually make it over to the park, but not until he’s taken care of a few other pieces of business. The manager of the flophouse sometimes lets him park his overloaded shopping cart around back. …

I bought it as a rental, this little bungalow next door: 2BR/1BA, old walls but solid, nice little lawn with fence, only a few repairs needed. With a rental you stick to the basics; anything fancy only gets you caught up in extra upkeep. The plan was to bring in…