The books that have taught me how to write have also taken me out on the road to speak. The speaking and writing have happily conspired to put me in contact with many terrific people, more than I can keep up with.
This blog is my attempt to be in contact while still protecting time with Barbara and the kids, some nourishing solitude, and time to write.
I am calling it “Nothing Special” because I have no illusions of having anything particularly profound to say. Days in a life and hunches about living, along with some excerpts from What Remains and Sailing Grace.
My heart is talking to me tonight. The ache in my chest takes me back to my father, an evening together twenty years ago. We are watching TV in my parent’s living room. Dad’s heart is damaged but it is not what will kill him. The Parkinson’s he has lived with for fifteen years is […]
I am worn out now, a staggering exhaustion at the end of a day on the road. All the motels in town are sporting “no vacancy” signs. I park my motorcycle to look around and settle on a strip of lawn at the well-shadowed end of a pricey hotel parking […]
SCOTCH TAPE? When I swing into a parking lot to turn around, my boot slides on loose gravel. My bike and I pitch to the left and over, my helmet hard against the asphalt. I kill the engine, crawl out from under the bike and muscle it upright. When I reach up to […]
Weather has a way of putting self-importance in its place – TV forecasters with their brave assuredness, even the most seasoned sailor or cyclist in a great storm on the open expanse. What do you really control? To reef or not when the sea goes black, change the angle of attack on a […]
Excerpt 4 from What Remains As much as I love words, I don’t experience life in complete sentences, especially on my motorcycle. Images and impressions mostly, that I try to make sense of later. These first miles are slow and hesitant, arms spastic, too cautious in the curves. Less control, I remind myself. More attention. […]
Excerpt 2 from What Remains: Barbara’s breathing slows and softens. She slips into the deep sleep I want for myself. I do not follow her, adjusting and readjusting, trying not to wake her. I am desperate for the energy morning will demand. I cannot fall asleep. Is this fear or excitement? Probably a little of […]
Excerpt 3 from What Remains: It’s moving up on ten o’clock. Time to get on my way if I’m going. I clean up the kitchen and pull on a boot, lace it up and pull on the other. Then I freeze. All the questions I’ve been swatting away turn back on me, less questions than […]
Excerpt 1 from What Remains: At a weekly get together, I tell friends I will be away for a while. “Three, four weeks, a motorcycle ride. Get reacquainted with backroad America.” Several glasses stop short of open mouths. “Three, four weeks, alone, on your motorcycle?” “Yup,” more sheepishly than I intend. “Where you headed?” more […]
What Remains is a latter-day road book, travel in the extreme – old man, old motorcycle, thousands of miles of old broken roads. Mountains and deserts and small town America, three hundred potholed miles at a time. Off-center characters in the out-of-the-way places where they carve out an existence. The grit and grace it takes […]