The Brush Back and Family Values

It seems to me that I wrote a column some time back about a certain month that I really hate. Funny thing is, I don’t recall exactly which one it is. It would be my guess that it was March. It has to be March. Why March? Because its immeasurable days are the final...

The Butt of All Jokes!

Minnesota bassist Mark Anderson with Monroe Crossing gave me the idea to bring out this piece I wrote some time ago and rehash it a bit. As a bassist, I have to give Mark a lot of credit for advocating so strongly for another instrument. At the Blythe festival last...

The Butte Fire

Good morning from Whiskey Creek, where for the past two days we’ve been blessed with beautiful magenta-blue skies and enough of a breeze to erase any trace of the sickeningly gray ash that for days covered every square inch of our six-acre slice of heaven in the...

The Cake

He got home pretty late. Everybody was still awake but dinner had already been put away in the refrigerator. “Oh you got a present today,” his wife informed him. One of the perks of being a doc in a rural community was that people gave you things at...

The Cake

He got home pretty late. Everybody was still awake but dinner had already been put away in the refrigerator. “Oh you got a present today,” his wife informed him. One of the perks of being a doc in a rural community was that people gave you things during...

The Call of the Wild

It is Saturday, ten o’clock in the morning. I drag my lazy bones off the couch and head out for a geezer walk. Not fast, not strenuous, just something to stretch the cramped muscles and get moving. Anything can happen, or nothing can happen. If I’m lucky, once I get...