Today I biked past an old man using a walker on the sidewalk. He was wearing a cycling jersey. Not some cheap novelty tee or faded cotton wannabe, either. A real one—aerodynamic cut, triple rear pockets, full length zipper, snug sleeves, defiant colors. He was moving slowly, but not apologetically. I wish I’d stopped. Turned… Continue reading On Your Left
What do a stack of cafeteria trays, a wooden waterbed frame from the '80s, and a cannon ball all have in common? My dad. I recently spent five days emptying his garage and two storage sheds so we could get the house ready to sell. It was crazy. He had an entire bucket full of… Continue reading Why, Dad?
I’m defective. For the last 18 months or so, my left ear has felt clogged. But instead of just muffled sounds, I started hearing a high-pitched buzz. ALL. OF. THE. DAMN. TIME. It’s now become almost impossible to understand conversations in public places, especially if there is any sort of background noise (I’m looking at… Continue reading WHAT
I’ve been hanging out at a senior care center in Idaho for the past two weeks helping my mom recover from knee replacement surgery. My primary job has been smuggling vanilla frappes into her room. So far, so good, though I can’t take all the credit for her progress -- the center’s nurses are amazing,… Continue reading Step Bravely
I turned 53 last month. So far things have gone pretty well except for the time my eyeballs dried out and stopped working normally. I spent that entire day dousing myself with saline solution and wondering how blindness would affect my mountain biking skills only to later discover I’d been wearing an extra pair of… Continue reading This is 53
Thirty-five minutes. That’s how long it took me to bury my dad’s remains after his funeral earlier this month. I don’t know if that’s fast or slow because I haven’t buried a lot of bodies. At least ones that are substantially larger than, say, a hamster. It’s not that I was in a hurry. In… Continue reading December Dirt
How’s my dad doing? Admirably, badly, decently. Poorly. Sometimes satisfactorily. And sometimes not. The answer depends on exactly when you ask and where I am, alphabetically, on my list of valid responses. I’ve been cycling through this same set of words for the past six months. He was doing admirably after shattering his hip, then… Continue reading My Words
Lots of people keep asking how things are going here in Idaho. So. As you may recall, my 78-year-old father fell and shattered his hip five weeks ago. A few days after getting it repaired, he had an undiagnosed ulcer burst which led to another emergency surgery. In the month since then, his heart and… Continue reading Wednesdays are the Worst Days
I’m balding, separated from my wife, and living in the back bedroom of my parents’ house. Sure, two of those things are only temporary setbacks, but this isn’t how I’d imagined life at 51. Still, I know I’m right where I need to be right now. My dad slipped and broke his hip last week,… Continue reading Slipping
