Original anecdotes, commentary, rumination, and occasional pontification.
AUGUST 25, 2026 – (Cont.) My earliest memory of fishing dates back to the Franklin Elementary School annual carnival. I wasn’t yet in school, but my two older sisters were, and they knew their way around the highlights of the carnival—the cake walk, the ring toss, the balloon darts, and . . . the fish …
AUGUST 24, 2026 – As I begin this post, the sun is sliding toward the horizon with a landing spot just under a month shy of the equinox. I’m seated at the end of the dock in the company of spouse and half of our company, admiring a sky filled with pastels in search of …
AUGUST 17, 2026 – Yesterday at midnight, after everyone else was sound asleep and Byron himself was about to head off to Nod, I said, “I’m going out to the dock to check out the stars.” “I’ll join you,” he said. I was glad he wanted to—without having to be invited. Together we strolled out …
AUGUST 16, 2026 – We tend to idealize about the past, complain about the present, and worry about the future. All too often I find myself in this three-way rut in life, though sometimes I scramble these, complaining about the past, idealizing about the future and worrying about the present. Take the family cabin experience, …
JULY 30, 2026 – Early this morning I stepped outside the back door of the old cabin and strolled around to the front for a view of the lake. Sunbeams filtered through the trees to the east, signaling positive prospects for the day ahead. The air was already warm and a bit hazy but not …
JULY 27, 2026 – This morning my wife and I attended to a bit of familial “crisis management.” The good news is that we were able to discharge our parental duties by phone from the porch of the Red Cabin. With this priority temporarily addressed, I was able to return to my next priority: earning …
JULY 25, 2026 – It was an easy choice between reading beyond the morning headlines or reveling in nature’s magical majesty here in the lacustrine woodlands of northwestern Wisconsin. While Beth lounged in bed here at the Red Cabin, I stole downstairs, charged up the coffee apparatus, and fixed my usual breakfast. Soon I was …
JULY 18, 2026 – Yesterday we attended the closing program of this summer’s daytime Korean Culture Camp, or “KCC,” which our granddaughter attended. She’s half-Korean—given that her father, our oldest son, is “100% Korean.” But what does that mean, exactly—“100% Korean”? He would have much to say about that. He and his brother, also “100% …
JULY 14, 2026 – Today at Grindstone Lake was hotter than a pistol at the storming of the Bastille on this day in 1789. Chaotic incident was the spark that lit the beginning of the end of the Bourbon Monarchy in France. If there were a few French fur traders and missionaries in this neck …
JULY 12, 2026- As twilight surrendered to nightfall, I realized I’d lost track of time. Time flies when you’re building sailboats, especially half a dozen at once. As the reader who read yesterday’s post is aware, these are model sailboats, not life-size vessels, but today I transitioned from the “zen” phase to the “roll up …
JUNE 20, 2026 – With two small royal children taken on a road trip goes a regular camel caravan of supporting supplies and equipment—the Pack N Play; toys; strollers; stroller fans in case the weather is too hot; stroller blankets in case the weather is too cold; ample food supplies; cloth bags stuffed with diapers, …
JUNE 7, 2026 – (Cont.) Before I leave the subject of campus mischief as purveyed by the B.P.T.O. and lead my dear readers back to more dignified features of the 50th reunion, I must recount one more connection between old memories of mischief and new memories of edification. I can’t do that, however, without noting …
JUNE 6, 2026 – (Cont.) Our Phase II success made us think even bigger, as in . . . A whale. Why not strike at the very top of the Bowdoin College food chain? Why not hit the good-natured president of the college, “Jolly Roger Howell,” whose appeal to supplement academic over-achievement had inspired the …
JUNE 5, 2026 – (Cont.) Jeff and I soon realized that there were bigger Maine lobsters to be trapped: faculty. We ramped up the “terror”/business plan accordingly. We now plastered campus—again, clandestinely—with mimeographed signs that read, “CREAM A PROF”. Our plug was simple: *TAKE OUT A CONTRACT ON A PROFESSOR FROM ANY OF THE FOLLOWING …
JUNE 4, 2026 – (Cont.) Ever since high school I’d been a fan of Camus, which rendered me curious about Algeria, which is why I was drawn to the acclaimed documentary La Bataille d’Alger (The Battle of Algiers) when it was showing at Bowdoin our sophomore year. The film was about the Arab urban guerrilla …
JUNE 3, 2026 – (Cont.) Toward the end of our senior year at Bowdoin, I engaged in some nonsense of my own, albeit in league with Jeff Oppenheim, on whom by that stage I’d exerted a corruptive influence, though by no means irredeemably so. Jeff continued to act as an older, wiser brother exercising superior …
JUNE 2, 2026 – (Cont.) In anticipation of the 50th reunion, I’d said to a non-Bowdoin friend, “I don’t want to engage in a lot of ‘remember the time our freshman year when [we engaged in some puerile prank that we thought was so clever—guffaw, guffaw]?’ I’d much rather stick to (high-minded) talk about people’s …
MAY 28, 2026 – Today we climbed out of bed early to make the day-long trek from Minnesota to Maine (via Massachusetts) for my 50th college class reunion. To be truthful, four years ago when I first started hearing about plans for this occasion, my thoughts were focused on the pending stem cell transplant I …
MAY 27, 2026 – It is in our nature, I guess, that when the Northwind blows, forcing us to pull our collars up and walk with folded arms to trap more body heat, we complain about the cold. Yet, when the tables are turned and the Southwind sends its hot and humid breath across the …
MAY 26, 2026 – I don’t know what I did to wind up in a family full of grammarians, but that’s what happened to me. One of my most searing memories as a teenager away at school was receiving from a certain family member, a Xeroxed (back when such was a word) version of one …
MAY 24, 2026 – My parents, bless their souls, were philhellenes and to a lesser extent, Romanophiles—lesser because as I remember my dad explaining when I was quite young, for the most part, the Ancient Romans were “copycats,” the Ancient Greeks having been the source of so much that later evolved in the hands and …
MAY 20, 2026 – I didn’t forget. Early this morning when I first saw today’s date, I immediately thought of Dad. If he hadn’t died 16 years ago earlier this month, he would’ve turned 104 today. My three sisters, independently of one another and of me, were also thinking about Dad today. Later this morning …
MAY 10, 2026 – Rarely do we find pleasure in facing our abject failures—let alone in talking out loud about them. I think this aspect of the human condition is a survival instinct. If we were to dwell on our defeats, we’d sink further into a quagmire of hopelessness, endangering our very continuation as a …
MAY 2, 2026 – This morning I put all concerns about the larger world aside—along with most of my personal worries—and drove straight to the Red Cabin. Well, not exactly straight there. In Cumberland, Wisconsin I encountered a detour, which took me straight east, not north, all the way to Rice Lake, halfway across Wisconsin, …
APRIL 29, 2026 – The sound reminds me of a grandfather clock with a malfunctioning escapement mechanism. Instead of a steady “tick-tock . . . tick-tock” we hear, “tick . . . tock-tock . . . TOCK . . . tick-TOCK” and so on, ad nauseam, day after day. The source of the erratic noise …