Conflicted Protester
There's something happening here What it is ain't exactly clear There's a man with a gun over there, telling me, I got to beware, I think it's time we stop, children, what’s that sound Everybody look what’s going down Stephen Stills, For What It’s Worth Watching above the Bridge Attending Iowa University for dental school in the early 70s, I was safe from the draft and the possibility of placing my life in jeopardy amidst the steamy jungles of Vietnam. My sentiments were with those protesting the war, and I considered jumping into the fray. The consequences of such[...]
Sailboats and Sailors
Shadows follow us everywhere. Some may say these light obstructions bring a third dimension to the two-dimensional world. Some may say shadows constantly change shape, angle, and intensity, like emotions and thoughts. Some may say life is a walking shadow or question if we really have to walk in the shadow of death. Most say the brighter the light, the darker the shadow’s hue. Sailboats rest in partial morning light, the winds calm, and ocean water glassy. Reflections of hulls and masts lie still. Reflections that double their size, like dreams, dreams of their sailors. Sailboats rest in partial[...]
Yosemite
Echoes of Light Splashes Light echoes as it reflects off a surface. The bounce back produces a delayed, fainter “echo” of the original source. For instance, this curiosity of light echo occurs in space when light from a distant source reflects off interstellar dust or gas. Waterfalls show the splendor of sunlight and water colliding as they travel together, splashing against rocks, pulled by earthly forces over irregular avenues of twists and turns, pathways generated and modified over years of global evolution, years of disasters and surprises. Light gives life to the sprays that ricochet in arrays of[...]
Deadly Discrimination: Tulsa & Sand Creek Race Massacres
There wasn't much racial tension in my Northwest Iowa upbringing—maybe a skirmish between a few Angus and Herefords from time to time, but nothing to make front-page news. Blacks, Whites, and Natives co-existed without life-threatening prejudice in my hometown of Sioux City, along the Missouri River at the juncture of Iowa, Nebraska, and South Dakota. Was that because the Whites accounted for nearly 90% of the population in the 1950s and 60s? In comparison, the Blacks and American Indians tallied about 6% combined. My high school had a handful of minority students, and until then, I’d had no non-White interactions[...]
The Danger of Night Fishing on Lake Erie
George “Bugs” Moran, the Chicago Prohibition-era gangster, an arch-enemy of Al Capone, and the uncle and confidant of Joseph P. Moran, MD, was alerted by relatives of an upcoming report by a nationally broadcast show in Chicago. He tuned in to the late November show and listened intently. Bugs knew there was so much more to the story and decided to set the story straight. He’d read the violent, serial killer classic The Killer Inside several years ago, written by noir detective novelist Jim Thompson. Bugs knew Thompson was a leading newspaper journalist. He called Thompson. Circling the drain, dying[...]
Subdermal Buick
A ’56 pink Buick with red leather seats drove through Myra’s tissue mass. Asleep, Myra paid no attention. The Buick, who called himself Buck, left his garage on the topside of the index finger, turned left at the wrist, and headed for a reported muscle swelling. Weaving through the fascia, ducking red corpuscles, Buck smelled fumes and engine sounds. He pushed down on the accelerator. Approaching the scene, Buck saw a racetrack and guessed it might be three inches around the oval of inflammation. “Wow,” he said to no one, “ I bet you can barrel around that baby.” Rounding[...]
Peanut Butter on My Mind
Embarrassment descended upon the Huff family of five. And peanut butter was the culprit. Exhausted by healthy foods, they craved the addictive paste. A slug of United States-minted gold bars couldn't stop them. No, siree. Overcome by the goober spread, their lives changed—nothing else mattered; Papa Huff quit his bank job, and Mama Huff quit the PTA. Their stubborn demeanor prevailed; it was nuts. Weeks passed as they gorged, and the twin sisters ballooned. A thumbnail amount did not suffice. No, siree. A crock for each person. Then, OMG, it’s gone. The aisle of the Humpty Dumpty grocery store[...]
The Humor of Hunter Thompson: One Toke Over the Line
"Buy the ticket, take the ride." Hunter Stockton Thompson loved to shock his readers. His raw, personalized writing initially alarmed and confused and eventually humored generations in the 60s and 70s. His timing to enter the writing fray with his unorthodox, new journalism style was perfect — just weird enough to be rebellious and just knowledgeable enough to be well-received. Some say he was the only twentieth-century equivalent of Mark Twain. Others say the timing of Thompson's point of entry into the publishing world was karma; still others may declare God's will. Thompson intertwined his writing and personal life,[...]
Hello, Brainerd
A Postcard Thread To: Miss Gulda Miller, Sunbury, Iowa, July 27, 1907 One of these days, I’m going to take a month off. I will certainly enjoy myself. Having Sunday every day and picnics galore. Say girlie, how did the examination turn out? Please, write and let me know as I am anxiously awaiting you reply concerning the result. Are you having a good time, Hilda? How is everybody? Give my love to all. A.B. (Annabelle Babcock To: Annabelle Babcock, Brainerd, Minnesota, August 3, 1907 Sister Hilda is indeed enjoying her summer vacation from Wilton German English College, up the[...]
Two Professors
It was a cold, snowy day in December 2021. The heavy storm winds subsided during the night, creating an other-worldly stillness. Trees lined the boulevard to town, giant trees that pondered decades of memories of students trundling to campus with books under their arms. Dressed in an aged wool overcoat, a black and gold scarf tucked inside the coat's collar, and a black fedora whose brim he pulled down before venturing into the wilderness of the old neighborhood, the sixty-year-old native Iowan headed for the University of Iowa campus a mile away. He traversed the last porch step of the[...]
There's something happening here What it is ain't exactly clear There's a man with a gun over there, telling me, I got to beware, I think it's time we stop,[...]
Shadows follow us everywhere. Some may say these light obstructions bring a third dimension to the two-dimensional world. Some may say shadows constantly change shape, angle, and intensity, like emotions[...]
Echoes of Light Splashes Light echoes as it reflects off a surface. The bounce back produces a delayed, fainter “echo” of the original source. For instance, this curiosity of[...]
There wasn't much racial tension in my Northwest Iowa upbringing—maybe a skirmish between a few Angus and Herefords from time to time, but nothing to make front-page news. Blacks, Whites,[...]
George “Bugs” Moran, the Chicago Prohibition-era gangster, an arch-enemy of Al Capone, and the uncle and confidant of Joseph P. Moran, MD, was alerted by relatives of an upcoming report[...]
A ’56 pink Buick with red leather seats drove through Myra’s tissue mass. Asleep, Myra paid no attention. The Buick, who called himself Buck, left his garage on the topside[...]
Embarrassment descended upon the Huff family of five. And peanut butter was the culprit. Exhausted by healthy foods, they craved the addictive paste. A slug of United States-minted gold bars[...]
"Buy the ticket, take the ride." Hunter Stockton Thompson loved to shock his readers. His raw, personalized writing initially alarmed and confused and eventually humored generations in the 60s[...]
A Postcard Thread To: Miss Gulda Miller, Sunbury, Iowa, July 27, 1907 One of these days, I’m going to take a month off. I will certainly enjoy myself. Having Sunday[...]
It was a cold, snowy day in December 2021. The heavy storm winds subsided during the night, creating an other-worldly stillness. Trees lined the boulevard to town, giant trees that[...]
