First Draft Done!

That piece I've been working on this week has passed its first draft. It's done. 3,300+ words, good article length. During the review and rewrite process it will probably grow a little bit, but I'm glad that first hurdle is jumped. Now it's off to sit for a few days,...

The Eating

There was once a frog...who ate a pig. Obviously the pig was not happy about this since the frog was so much smaller than the pig, but he was consumed, and dead, so there was not much he could do about the situation. Coincidentally, in a closet, far, far away, a mouse...

Run for Cover

A very tricky part of this "self-publishing" thing is finding covers for the work. I anticipated this, planned for it, but it's still a bit difficult. "Lure" is ready to go, but I need to pull a picture for the cover. Since I take a lot of photos, and many fit what I...


It's like getting defiled...with sticks. I forgot how much being a wedded man (oh yeah, I did that too while I was gone) changes your standing with the IRS. "You're married? Well shit! You probably need some of this back then!!" Kinda like your dad handing you two...


A series of things, add a little Karma, and toss in a dash of coincidence and you have a message. This morning I walked into my office to find a bag of garbage sitting on the floor...looks like the cleaning staff forgot take it with them. Get into the Monday meeting,...

A Temple Burns

Yes, that’s me standing there in a hat, flame resistant shirt, Thai fisherman pants and a pair of boots with a fully engulfed temple not more than fifty feet behind me. The fireman in the picture wasn’t there to douse the flames. I wasn’t a spectator. There was a crowd gathered in near silence, wrapped in their own thoughts, memories and reflections as this structure burned.

It was a little after 3 AM on a Sunday morning in the middle of the desert.
(Photo Courtesy of Nick Franchi)

The recent past…in writing

Pessimistic Idealism

My dreams are woven from dark fabric; bound in smoke and fire – embellished with tears. Yet, to see such decoration our eyes need light. It is pointless to weave intricate patterns that cannot be seen. There can never be destruction without creation.

Pessimistic pondering must be balanced by Idealism, or the entire dream collapses into depthless nightmare.

So, yes. I am a man with Pessimistic Idealism driving my thoughts. Since nothing is mutually inclusive, these two clashing concepts work in balance to create some future vision. I think they birth Hope…and a fragile Faith.

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The Great Motorcycle Hunt of 2018

The Great Motorcycle Hunt of 2018 Spivey is now in the loving hands of my daughter. He was a faithful steed and I miss him. But I am very happy he is where he is.   Searching... This Spring I will get my next bike. Since I have a habit of researching the...

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Toxicity …is everywhere, and it’s seeping into life — both waking and sleeping. This is what I’m doing about it.

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White Supremacists in the Full-Time RV community have forced me to deactivate my FaceBook account. Old friends are not really speaking to me right now. We have one car, so while Julie’s at work I’m land-bound.

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Remembering Ice and Cold

Remembering Ice and Cold

If I look at measures, I think in winters. Not moons, suns, stars or the ticks on a ruler or those of a clock. I recollect by the numb freeze of fingers and ears. Heavy feet in boots. The rhythmic puff clouds huffed out in blue-grey morning light.

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