Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Thursday, September 15, 2016
Nascar racer rather a Nascar movie starring Will Ferrell
Bob Hope on a treadmill
A young Samuel Clemens
Tuesday, September 13, 2016
I wrote to McGuane. Sent him a couple of poems Dustin and I shanedunked. I hope he writes me back. Here's him discussing the short story, a form I continue to find extremely challenging to write, but great to read:
Are you more drawn to the story form than the novel these days?I’m a bit bipolar on this one. I do plan to write another novel, but the writing I find most interesting today is in the short story. It’s not even close. The best short stories today are written by people whose interests are literary and artistic, full stop. The form seems impervious to the ulterior motives behind the swollen quality of many serious novels. A level of immediacy, the minimal scaffolding, the prospects for lyric intensity feed the hope that the reader may be a cultivated person.
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
Saturday, August 20, 2016
Monday, August 08, 2016
Dear Head Coach of Women’s Volleyball at Mercer University,
I like volleyball a lot. What may be beside the point is the fact me and my friend Dustin used to partake in spicy burgers in the beer garden at this pub called the Mash Ton in North Portland on Tuesdays in the summers. His friend Shane (yes, another Shane) one day took a photo using a slow shutter speed — many moons later this photo appeared on a website. It appeared that Dustin’s hand was huge and coming out of his shorts holding an oversized glass of beer. I'm there staring off into space in a Chug Life tanktop perfect for wearing to volleyball practice. It’s true I had no clue. I didn’t know what was going on. All in a good fun, as the kids say. I am 43 years-old. I will be sixty in 17 years. The barmaid at the Mash Ton had what you would call a volleyball player’s build. Blonde, probably six-foot-two. We struck up a friendship on a first-name basis. Sarah was her name.
Tell the girls I am out of a job and I have a big heart. A starter for Mt Hood Community College back in the day tells you I’m sporty (Go Raiders). Until one day number 24 (yours truly) tore his hamstring trying to touch his toes during tip-off. He managed to draw a charge before they pulled him and sent him back to the hotel with a bag of McDonalds in one hand and some ice in the other. He fell asleep watching Quantum Leap with his legs up.
That was 23 years ago.
Today, I remain a sizable entity, who despite an infected cuticle, has good court coverage. I have watched the sport from afar, using binoculars mainly, and I have watched the sport up close where the images of ladies in kneepads blur like hillsides from the window of a train. I know the ins and outs. A picture I rapaciously return to is that of five babes in a crouch with their knees bent. I’m like “here comes the white leathery orb, girls! Extend those arms, Bump!”
Volleyball’s a good sport and this should be a lot of fun.