Sometimes you just have to learn to let it go — The workman turned with a board under his arm, knocking the slender blue vase off the table, nothing left but shards smaller than my thumb. A small vase, room for one stem, one of the few things I still have of hers. Gathered the pieces into a stained, wooden watch box…

Seeking the healing power of true silence — Total silence. No deadly hum from traffic, the noise always there our minds fight so hard to make disappear. Not a bird, we are much too high for the small chirpers to survive, no planes rumbling overhead, as common as flies and just as annoying, my phone buried in the…

Alone with the shadows, my only friends in those days of damage — I was born into the night, one with the shimmering street lights, whisked along by damp fog rising from the restless bay. The Wharf of San Francisco, alone on deserted streets, one o’clock the beginning of solitude, nowhere to go, all-night to get there. Cafes closed, shops shuttered, tourists restless in…

My pathetic attempt at late night writing — Lying on the floor next to my writing desk, flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. Two hours, two glasses of wine, two words written. My dog Pumpkin on next to me, her face in my face. You are pathetic old man, just pathetic, she whispered. Maybe it was the wine, but she…

Someone stole that man’s backside — Dude, someone stole your butt. I wanted to say it, the words slipping out my mouth like melting ice cream, but I didn’t… does he even know it’s gone? The Flat Rock Playhouse, opened in 1952, making it the same age as most of the patrons at this Wednesday matinee. A few…

Your failure is your greatest success — You were a complete and utter failure; and that failure was such a beautiful thing to see. You completely destroyed yourself, and your destruction was magic. The smoke and stink from your total burn down set the world on fire, and we are dancing in your honor. You sit in…

There is power in a soft whisper you may have forgotten — You sit in a bar listening to a friend, offer words of advice late at night over a quiet glass, and 20 years later he thanks you for setting him on course… and you never knew he listened. You spend five minutes talking your kid through a failure she feels…

The only failure in writing is not writing — There is no failure in writing unless you fail to write. There are a million better writers than me… I do not care. I simply want to find out how good I can be, and this drive to find your own personal best should be all that matters to any…

It’s six thirty old man, get your ass out of bed — Soft whimpering woke me, muted by hard tapping of rain on our roof. Six thirty, Sunday morning, the quiet sobs now crying and moaning, the Baby, real name Poppy, our third Boston, four months old, screaming I got to pee now old man, get your ass out of bed. Baggy…