“This would be a good night for ice cream,” I tell myself Sunday afternoon, knowing I’d have to get back in the Camry – which I’ve driven two miles in these last three days…

The summer of ’67, sultry, Summer of Love, war raging, the Red Sox are winning, there’s me behind the music counter in Star Jewelers, pretty much full-time, something of a handle on necklesses and…

Lately I’ve been daydreaming about driving a stick shift – four on the floor. It’s been a thing. The other day I tried to remember the last time I did, even a three speed…

In the late winter of 1983 I was hired for a brand new adolescent program – The Drug and Alcohol Resouce Program – as a counselor and referral information gatherer. I was about six…

Long ago I composed a song about my childhood life at The Monday Club in my hometown. This was the first verse: “When we were young and our souls were young, and we didn’t…

When I was a kid I was blessed to find myself immersed in a musical milieu with three distict ‘styles’ of sound — The Beatles/Beach Boys British Invasion/American counterpart groups; Motown – and growing…

Much magic swirling. Late Saturday calm. Lowest electric charge sparkling the church bell air. Dong dong, dong dong, dong dong. “Wait for it,” Saturday says. “Wait for it.” Too old to date. Breaking hearted.…

Look at all these books piled on the small blue sidewalk fetched table. Read them all at once? Piles so heavy the planet tilts. Cosmic pinball machine. Hometown Zen arcade. Swans bobbing on the…

Practice. The entire conversation – about practice; as practice. Free speech. It’s other than history considered. The Ten Grave Precepts. ‘Not withholding the Dharma assets.’ Express the inexpressible. Bird song out the window. Refridgerator…

Middle road, tar path, someone hollers, “Yo, Cool Breeze.” Nobody but Japanese Maples and Hydrangeas. People on porches, Saturday coffees, Boston Common traffic. The Red Sox are winning. There’s Sister Ray, some of its…