A chapter, “Keeping Time by the Moon,” from my memoir-in-progress, “The Photo Box,” has been published today in Chelsea Station Magazine. Click through to read.
Keeping Time by the Moon
- mud tastes better than you might imagine
- troubled times do build character
- i will never like math
- love finds you
- tall is good
- i am as graceful as a cantaloupe
- dancing makes you feel good
- never mix, never worry
- tell the truth, even when it’s inconvenient
- don’t argue with a fool (it’s harder to do than it sounds
- pet a dog every chance you get
- accept the fact that some people are cat people
- mustard yellow is not my color
- long walks are soul-cleansing
- talking to yourself is okay
- not everyone is your friend
- listen to your heart
- learn a foreign language
- work smart, not hard
- if you fall off your bike/horse/pedestal, get back up, brush yourself off and try again
- not everything in life is analogous to a sport
- read the newspaper; you’ll always be able to carry on a conversation with a stranger
- bald is good
- men, grow a mustache at least once in your life
- kiss friends and hug them
- be passionate about doing good
- give love unconditionally
- hold hands with your lover
- resist tyranny
- jump in mud puddles and dance in the rain
- no one wants to hear you complain
- listen carefully and more often
- come with a solution to a problem
- some people are jealous of you
- show off in moderation
- honor the dead
- honor the living
- sharing is caring
- do something for a loved one without being asked
- be solicitous to strangers, but not obsequious
- treat everyone with respect
- go to an art museum
- see a play
- better yet, act in a play
- learn how to debate
- ask for help
- give help when asked
- hold a baby
- i love new york (but i don’t want to live there)
- laugh at stupid jokes
- puns are fun
- pinch yourself
- believe in something
- act your age (joking! what does that even mean?)
- stretch your legs before getting out of bed
- don’t lick a mustard knife and take a sip of coffee
- take your lunch to work
- start a savings account and pay yourself monthly
- take care of yourself, someone may depend on you
- have a hobby
- love often and deeply
- snoring happens
- see the sun rise
- this was easier than i thought it was going to be
…be counted on to stand up.
Although this quote by Chuck Jones was written in January of 1961, it is particularly pertinent to today.
“Today, we cannot envisage a protected world that does not include them all, and so [my] hope this year to all people everywhere is for a future–sheltered by the stars, sweetened by clean air, and above all fostering a climate in which no man can be commanded to stand up and be counted–but where every man can be counted on to stand up.” –Chuck Jones
Billy Blue Eye, a Good-bye
I found you online, a “tweenie” dachshund with one blue eye and one brown. A few days later, we met in front of the Ralph Lauren outlet store in Carlsbad, you on a string leash, no collar, walking two humans, anxious to let you go. You and Joey didn’t seem to mind each other and so I said, “I’ll take him,” and the string leash was handed to me. We walked, and you, well-trained dog that you were, stepped to my left and stayed there while Joey, still being trained, pulled and jerked his leach, his “must smell everything” at full operating mode. You didn’t seem to care.
Until we got in the car. Then there was a minor dispute about who would occupy the front seat and who the rear. You claimed the front as if it was rightfully yours, and this time, Joey didn’t seem to mind. No growling, no snapping, just as it always was between the two of you, brothers in spirit if not in breed.
Billy Blue Eye, little Billy two-shoes, Billy of the Wild Niguel, always available to be petted and admired, loved and stroked. The softest of fur as if you were put on this earth just to be petted. And so everyone you met automatically reached out to touch you, even in your last days, carried in my arms, friends and strangers would stretch out their arms and wiggle their fingers behind your ears, stroke your snout, kiss you.
A couple of years in, you popped a disc and had to have back surgery. You never complained. A year after that, another disc popped and you had a second surgery and suddenly you were our “$9000 free dog”. What was to be done, though? We loved you and you loved us back.
You loved to go for walks almost as much as you liked to curl up by the back door in the late afternoon sunshine for a siesta. You and Joey were inseparable. We traveled together; up the coast a couple of times to stay in Carmel and no matter where we went you were the star attraction.
There’s so much more, after all we spent almost 16 years together, but this last year, your 20th, was rough and today was the roughest. We had to say goodbye. But you had one last little surprise for us, didn’t you? Driving down the freeway this afternoon, after our last good-bye, Michael said, “look, a rainbow!” And sure enough, there you were, one last doggie kiss in red, orange, blue, green, and violet.
what becomes of the broken-hearted?
how can we be lovers if we can’t be friends?
where is the love?
how do i live without you?
what’s love got to do with it?
how can you mend a broken heart?
wouldn’t it be nice?
who do you think you are?
who’s zoomin’ who?
use a bigger brush
met an esteemed doctor of neurology the other day when we interviewed him for a work project about creativity.
after we were through, he asked me if i painted. when i demurred and said, “not often, i have to think too hard about it.” he said, “use a bigger brush.”
a piece of advice that i just can’t seem to forget.
this work is something i have painted for an upcoming silent auction. when it goes online for pre-bidding, i’ll let you know.
let’s all remember, when things get rough, complicated, difficult, or seem out-of-reach, just “use a bigger brush.”