Is there and old friend you haven’t talked to in a while? Let not another day go by without tending that friendship. You and I have old friends that we value greatly; Some we’ve known since childhood, grade school, high school. Others are from our first job, perhaps a special get-together. Still others are our…

In attempts to be polite, I will stifle Many of beliefs and ideas, Fearful of hurting  another’s’ feelings When I speak truthfully. Slowly, I am learning – Much trial and error on my part, It is possible to be honest Without being mean or rude. How else can I let someone know how I feel?…

Bruce Connor passed away October 17th, 2013, in Medford, Oregon. Born April 30th, 1958, and raised in Smith River, he attended Smith River Elementary and Del Norte High School, graduating in 1976. As a Warrior, he played football and wrestled throughout his high school career, earning a white star his senior year. Bruce also attended…

Point St. George, near Crescent City, not only has a long history, but a secret history, too. During World War II, the property housed a group of cryptographers, people who converted messages from a code to plain text, and a highly specialized direction finder radio. It was Intercept Station T, on Radio Road. Before the cryptographers moved in during…

A couple of days after Dad died my step-mom, sister and I went to Foster and Peterings Funeral Home in Muskogee for visitation. For some reason I went into the chapel, first to see him laid out in the casket and suit we’d selected the day before. It felt strange and I knew what to expect.…

At one point I used to write what I’ve always called ‘Maverick Poetry.” I learned later it is better known as ‘free-verse.’ However ‘maverick’ sound so much more manly. This afternoon, I awoke with a Kerouac quote swimming between my ears. Within ten-minutes I had ‘Rug,’ penciled out. “If you own a rug,” Jack Kerouac wrote,…

“Fuck, God!” I heard myself angrily shout, “Did you have to kick me in the nuts like this?” It had been a stressful work week. Tired from working the overnight shift, I went to the radio station, bitching about all the shit I had to get done and complaining about how I wasn’t sure if…

No Band-Aid can ever mend a broken heart or heal a wounded soul.

At first I thought it was some sort of spoof, but I decided to give it a try and it really was the correct phone number.  I dialed the ObamaCare’s national hotline at 1-800-318-2596 and it was answered by a polite sounding recording telling me I had the right number. Now, for the ironic thing…