Steel Kaleidoscopes

Forest Through the Trees

And so the journey begins.

Nauset Light Beach, 1978

Waiting for the sunrise.

Get a Job

I'm tired of perfectly healthy young men and women shaking cups at me on Tremont Street.

"Got some change?" "Help me out, will ya?"

Here's my response.

Get a job.

Last time I checked, there are thousands of minimal-skill jobs in the Boston area. McDonald's and Dunkin' Donuts seem to always be hiring. The Department of Public Works could use people to sweep the sidewalks. There are countless more opportunities for someone without a college degree.

I can understand if you are disabled in some way, and I'm sure there are deeper stories that may prevent someone from working. But my guess is that most of these young men and women can work, if they only had some gumption and ambition.

Here's my take: I drag my ass out of bed between 4 and 5 a.m. every day, hop on a train and manage to be at my desk by 7:30. Fourteen hours later, I'm back home. Because I'm productive and contributing to society, I sacrifice time with my wife and daughter. If I want to pursue my personal hobbies, my free time is before 5 a.m. or after 10 p.m. Doesn't leave much time for me.

And yes, I'm blogging at 10:43 p.m. with my alarm set for 4:30 a.m. I want to at least do a few minutes of cardio before chasing a train.

So if you're going to approach me shaking a cup, I find it hard to show compassion.

And if you're so good at shaking a cup, maybe you should buy a tambourine and play some music.

At least you'd be contributing something and earning any change that finds your cup.

Porcupines and Peacocks

Brittle and feathery.

Rigid and svelte.

Timid and self-assured.

Lumbering through soft grass and scaling trees, brown and undefined.

Deliberately ambling with confidence, a rainbow plume aglow with hue.

Analog and digital, passe and pristine.

Root Canal

Sports Illustrated. Newsweek. The Boston Herald.

Novocaine.

A little pinch.

Swollen face.

Icky plastic to isolate the tooth.

Drilling. Whir.

Can I have a number 4. Large 10. Number 11.

Pack, pack, pack.

Deep numbing pain. Some blood.

Rinse. Spit.

Gary, Indiana

Just another lazy afternoon in Gary, Ind.

Happy birthday, mom.

Porter Square

Basketball courts and gardens.

Flat-topped faded acrylic square houses that need painting.

Graffiti.

Stars and bars.

Question

If someone asked you where Tunisia was, would you know the answer?

It's the northernmost African country.

I did not know this.

July

Sizzle. Sweat.

Snuggling into the depths of summer.

Radios. Sand. The smell of Coppertone.

Dragonflies.Fireflies.

Iced coffee in the morning and Sauvignon Blanc in the evening.

The crack of the bat. Joe Castiglione. AM static.

Wilting skies. Melting sunsets.

The sound of splashing.

Laughter.

Renewal.

Bubbles

 Windows to the world.