Original anecdotes, commentary, rumination, and occasional pontification.
SEPTEMBER 20, 2020 – Recently, a good friend of mine, whose sails had been below my horizons for all too long, emailed me an essay by E. B. White: The Sea and the Wind that Blows. White is the writer’s writer (Sea—I mean see—The Elements of Style). I didn’t know that the Man of Style …
SEPTEMBER 19, 2020 – Even though I got lost in the woods yesterday, the main point of this post is not about that—since I’m no longer lost—in the woods, anyway. Nor is this about anything broad- or big-minded; just something . . . down to earth. Know, however, that being lost in the great outdoors …
SEPTEMBER 18, 2020 – If you spend enough time “in nature,” you make realistic judgments. Sure, nature is grand and beautiful. But it’s also cruel, unforgiving, even obnoxious. Over the summer I’ve devoted many hours to trimming around each of my 300 planted seedlings and at least that number of volunteers over roughly 15 acres …
SEPTEMBER 17, 2020 – Yesterday I fled the cities again for the Red Cabin. That sounds as if the cities are “aflame,” but that’s not true. They’re safe and secure, and though lately the sun has exhibited an unusual orange tinge from West Coast smoke, the outdoor air is still breathable. Black Lives Mattersigns still blanket …
SEPTEMBER 16, 2020 – When I was little, our house caught fire—or rather, our attached garage did. The cause: a box of hot ashes that the cleaning woman had stowed between studs of the garage wall. At the moment Mother yelled, “Fire!”—I was on the living room floor listening to the phonograph play the story …
SEPTEMBER 15, 2020 – . . . “Let’s put Kennedy in the garbage can.” That’s what my older sisters and I sassed around our house in the run-up to the 1960 general election. Our parents were Republicans, as were our maternal grandparents. (Our paternal grandparents were in question; in 1965, Grandpa Nilsson expressed approval when …
SEPTEMBER 14, 2020 – My third memorable fifth-grade lesson was about battlefield courage. The lesson could be traced directly to the Civil War. Background is in order. My dad was a student of the Civil War. He’d read all of Bruce Catton’s books on the subject and owned the four-inch-thick, illustrated volume, Civil War, published …
SEPTEMBER 13, 2020 – (cont.) As I circled the correct answer to question #4 (Susan had erased her circle around a wrong answer), I pictured a pool of vomit in the aisle; Mrs. Hilliard saying “Everyone stay calm,” then rushing out of the room; her returning minutes later with “Harry,” the friendly custodian only slightly …
SEPTEMBER 12, 2020 – My second memorable lesson from fifth grade was about guilt, taught again unwittingly by Susan Johansen, the girl who sat in front of me (see my 9/11 post – “The Sneeze”). One winter day our official teacher, Mrs. Hilliard, handed out a two-page, mimeographed math quiz and gave us instructions as …
SEPTEMBER 11, 2020 – I learned three memorable things in fifth grade. The first concerned sneezing. Until then, I’d never given sneezing much thought. When I had to sneeze, I sneezed. My sneezes were normal. They didn’t scare the cat or cause my arms to flap. And they didn’t produce improbable sounds—nothing like BZZZZZKK! which …
SEPTEMBER 10, 2020 – (Cont.) I was ecstatic but perplexed. The big kids at home had ample space to “deal with” their catches—a stretch of sand, a patch of grass, terra firma on which to lay the fish and work the hook out of its mouth. But a bass flopping around inside a net on …
SEPTEMBER 9, 2020 – (Cont.) When Dad got something special for any of my sisters or me—a birthday present, for example—he’d “hide” it on the back shelf of the front hall closet, which was pretty much his closet, where he parked his fedora, hat brush, dress coats, and umbrella. Every day in the weeks leading …
SEPTEMBER 8, 2020 – Recently, while sitting on the dock, my wife and I watched a lone fisherman out a ways haul in a catch. “Hard to tell,” I said, “if it’s a bass or a walleye; it’s definitely not a northern or a muskie.” “O-o-h-h,” my wife scoffed. “You don’t know the first thing …
SEPTEMBER 7, 2020 – The time of Covid has brought some silver linings. One is more old-fashioned, unstructured play by kids in the neighborhood. Instead of being carted off to dance class, soccer practice, and Taekwondo, kids are playing hopscotch on the sidewalks and riding their bikes up and down the street. Their shouts and …
SEPTEMBER 6, 2020 – At Björnholm, Dad was always engaged in a project relating to the operation, maintenance, or improvement of the cabin. Mother saw it as “work”—the burden of owning property, but she was wrong. For Dad, whose day job back in the cities involved wearing a suit and managing an array of people …
SEPTEMBER 5, 2020 – I never met him but was shown photos in his prime. He looked the part he’d assumed in life. His name was Bernard, and I knew his parents, Carl and Nellie, and his three sisters, who stayed close to home. Nellie was my grandmother’s cousin from Småland, back in Sweden. On …
SEPTEMBER 4, 2020 – We create much wind with our words, and far from curtailing the gush of hot air, face masks are cranking up the volume and velocity of our windstorms. But up here at the Red Cabin, it’s the old-fashioned wind that’s prevailed of late. The other night the south wind blew so …
SEPTEMBER 3, 2020 – If human affairs in this country seem to be spinning out of control, they’ve got nothing on China during most of the 20th century. I’m re-acquainting myself with China’s historical chaos, misery and outrages by way of a re-read of Barbara Tuchman’s Stilwell and the American Experience in China 1911 – …
SEPTEMBER 2, 2020 – Amidst the pandemic I’ve moved the world headquarters of my law office to the Red Cabin. My wife joins me now and again until boredom and her online book business lead back to “the cities.” Although I’m plenty sociable, I’ve also always enjoyed solitude, especially when surrounded by “nature.” “Nature” is …
SEPTEMBER 1, 2020 – Here we are, deep into 2020, stuck in a cinema watching an old black and white movie. Though we’ve seen the film before, we still fall for all the devices a Hitchcock throws at us. And then there’s the music—never underestimate the soundtrack’s effect on our fears. I’m speaking of Trump …
AUGUST 31, 2020 – As I prepared to return to the Red Cabin Saturday, my wife instructed me to get in touch with John, our reclusive next-door neighbor up here for 30 years. The top end of our drive cuts across his land, and he’d once said that with his “dirt toys,” he could regrade …
AUGUST 30, 2020 – Last Thursday I drove home from the Red Cabin to host on our back porch, my five-member, monthly book club gathering. Soon after pulling into the driveway, however, I had to cancel—curfews had been ordered to prevent another night of looting. I stayed for two days to catch up on things. …
AUGUST 29, 2020 – Yesterday, for the 1,000th time over the past four years, I drove by the site where a policeman shot Philando Castile less than a half mile from my neighborhood—a quiet, leafy haven of white liberalism. My wife and I know a fair amount about Mr. Castile—our oldest son is close friends …
AUGUST 28, 2020 – Last night my wife and I watched portions of the RNC. We wearied of the shameless fear-mongering and contemptuous disregard for truth. What put us over the top, however, was the dense, unmasked crowd on the South Lawn of the White House. Cable commentators (GoebbelsNews excepted) couldn’t hide their dismay. Rudy …
AUGUST 27, 2020 – Normally, my law practice doesn’t involve really bad behavior. In other words, I don’t practice family law or criminal defense law. My practice is mostly commercial real estate and business law. (Did I detect a yawn?) But one day along came a real estate case involving enough skullduggery to pinch over …