"Baby, you can drive my car," the Beatles once observed, "if you want to be a star." And the profundity of these words has never been clearer. Yes, automotive stardom is mine. For after literally weeks of introverting and introspecting, dammed if I didn't bring internal reality out into the open. Yes, those of you with a direct line to that chip you implanted in my brain, it finally happened. I leapt behind the wheel of my Dodge this very morning, Sunday, and hurtled down Valencia Avenue, zigzagged Read more [...]

Gentle readers, it is with great relief that I announce the completion of chapter 3, revision 136, of my so-called book. This allows me to do something else, albeit briefly. It does not allow me to stop worrying. So at this point the focus of my mental self castigation has shifted from the literary to, you guessed it, the automotive. Yes, I have not been driving enough. And truth to tell, this is not good. Not only does one’s experience fade, but confidence plummets. Yes, the only solution is to Read more [...]

I went rushing through the neighborhood BART station, noting the unusual appearance of two customers sleeping just outside the elevators. My first thought: move them on. My second thought: did they know about the Gubbio Project? Now, let’s review. Why do I want the two recumbent forms removed from their sleeping bags and ‘moved on?’ Well, probably for the same reasons that have lodged elsewhere in the collective consciousness. It’s not tidy to have people sleeping in the local subway system. Read more [...]

Grief, I keep reminding myself, involves a certain amount of anxiety. In fact, pervasive and ongoing anxiety. Who says? Mourning and Mitzvah says, and the book is my only available resource. Doubtless there are other books, but who’s got the time? Besides, I like this one. A local rabbi gave it to me. Anyway, anxiety or not, I have had some interesting countervailing experiences. Medical ones, as a matter of fact. All of which served to remind me that I am relatively healthy, neuromuscular Read more [...]

Fog settles in and out of San Francisco. It was briefly out yesterday, and this morning returned with a vengeance. Not that this matters in any tangible way, except for mood. Mine, that is. The summer began with the death of my cousin Bob, friend, contemporary. And it has continued with thoughts of my own death—which while not on the horizon, is on the table. Meanwhile, I am on the bed, and alone, owing to Jane’s current absence at a diocesan retreat. Retreats are good. We all need them. Read more [...]

If you read the New York Times this morning, and even if you don’t, the Democrats have a plan. (You have to have been a Democrat for a long time to sense the implicit irony.) They are running a highly diverse slate of candidates, more brown, black and yellow people than any time in history. And, of course, they are hoping to win. This is madness, but it may be inspired madness. I say this having just returned from Cup, my neighborhood café. Note that I have one. Café society has always been Read more [...]