Daily Blues & Views

Covered There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered. -Nelson Mandela Mile 1 When leaves turn the color of summer squash, weightless, broken and brooding, like underground springs, take the log truck route, with weekday determination. Cover up; morning air is the best alarm clock. Remember that day, when all you could offer was integrity, when your eyes crossed the country, when Oregon pulled back, when that return promise was sealed. Savor these days, when time is no longer on trial, when even adults call you “sir.” After all, it has been 40 years since you’ve seen your mother’s face; Highway 19 narrows like the river, both tiptoe from the high country, where riffles sing, pocket water promises, and desire, like sunlight, gets filtered. Mile 20 First comes the covered bridge: a red cabin riddle, with side door and dubious origin. Fishermen...

When I look at the picture I begin to wonder. What would that life have been like? Who would I be and what would I care about had I been around then? When people ask me about my parents, some are still surprised to learn that they've been gone for 30 years. I always tell them that they were married for almost 15 years before they had children; 13 to be exact. What I seldom say, unless they ask, is that my folks lived in a couple of smaller towns back east. In Port Jervis, NY, near the New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania border, they owned and operated a small combination grocery store soda fountain. The Deer Park Store was their life. They lived and worked there in the 1930s and early 40s. Right in the big middle of the Great Depression. They had stories. Many stories. I suppose I'm the keeper of them now. This little mom and pop (literally, huh?) operation was in a town that had lots of road traffic. Pre interstate, the main highway, in those days went right throug...

Sunday is not the best day for a yard sale. People are slow to rise on Sunday. But, it's all we had. So when we agreed to participate in a friend's yard sale on Sunday only, expectations were light. We sold a few small items very cheaply to a few folks who ambled by unaware that they couldn't get through the day without that Christmas ornament or piece of colorful material. Mostly we found some new homes for things we haven't used in a good while. Back in the 1980s I had about $600 invested in 35mm camera equipment for my "working journalist" days. That went to a 10 year old whose mom promised to help her learn the art of developing negatives and printing your own photos. They could afford $20. I liked the fact that a young girl would be learning that not all photos are available instantly and that photography is an art that can still be practiced. I also found a new home for my depression era candlesticks. They weren't getting the use they dese...

First day of school in my town. I still feel the pull. I have the dreams, the anxiety, the inspiration, the curiosity...it never leaves. Instead of 100-150 new students, I'll have a few student-teachers this year. First it was those "Back to School" commercials and ads that began in July. Then, lots of stories and solicitations for donating school supplies to kids that otherwise might not begin the year with what they need. Mostly it's local news stations that initiate these drives. Occasionally a commercial encourages consumers to collect "box tops" for school supplies and reminding prospective buyers that "you can make a difference." It's all well and good, right? Or is it? What does it say about a nation that has so many children that require the kindness of anonymous thousands to give it's students a proper sendoff to the new school year? I would never begrudge a donation for a public school student, classroom, program, teacher ...

Yesterday was a defective day. It began with the discovery of a twenty dollar bill by the curb where I parked my truck that morning. On closer inspection, it was most of a twenty dollar bill. The top left portion, including one of the two serial numbers, was missing. No celebration; just a trip to the federal reserve for a ruling on the matter. Things deteriorated quickly. The buy 5 summer drinks get one free Peet's card(s) I'd been dutifully carrying in my wallet for weeks expired on Tuesday last. I had 4 of 5 stamps on one card and 3 on the other. Both got tossed; summer's gone. Next came an encounter with a parking cop. The coin machine was not accepting coins. Put in a quarter, watch it tumble back to the coin return. I was only stopping at a news stand for a few minutes in downtown Portland,but something told me to get back out there. Sure enough the Parking Nazi was there and very short tempered. I tried to explain, but he kept interrupting saying, "...