Search: atticus

An Unspoiled Mind

February 19, 2009

Sometimes I need reminding how wonderful life is for those not yet afflicted with cynicism. The reminder came from our son, Atticus. “Where do dreams go?” he asked soon after waking this morning — a question I don’t recall contemplating at any age. Then he answered his question: “A dream is a cloud with tiny […]


Naked Artist at Work

January 28, 2009

Someone might question a father who posts a photo of his naked toddler online. But I’ve cropped it tastefully, which helps focus the viewer on Atticus’ intense gaze as he loses himself in shower-time “drawing.” I captured the image last night not with my expensive Nikon but wimpy iPhone camera. Besides the photo’s unusual quality […]


Inauguration Day

January 20, 2009

My day began with champagne and two friends, Benjamin Alexander Clarke and Kelley Burke, at an elbow-to-elbow cafe, Krakow Koffeehouse, where we watched President Obama sworn in. It ended with a neighborhood potluck dinner and never-to-forget, flag-waving march with 40 other people through the streets of Portland.


Taking Back the USA

January 4, 2009

On yet another snowy Portland night come this news in a flier left on our front porch: neighbors up the street are holding an Inauguration Night Party and Parade. Besides dinner, patriotic songs, and apple pie for dessert, we’re invited to carry President Obama signs and American flags, and bang on pots and pans in […]


A Year in Perspective

December 31, 2008

Like many people, I’ve been dwelling today on my year’s highlights and lowlights. Besides the most important and obvious — the health and love of my family, I keep thinking about what it means to have rekindled long-lost friendships with a handful of high school friends. They’re not just people I like because of our […]


Another Holiday Rule

December 28, 2008

I drilled into our little boy today another of my dead mother’s irrational holiday rules: everything Christmas related must be taken down before the new year begins. Otherwise, the most dire bad luck will ensue. Atticus accepted the rule as if our very existence hinged upon it, and we did mom proud. As a bonus, […]


Christmas Tree Rules

December 18, 2008

I’m a dictator when it comes to decorating our Christmas tree. Blame my mother. As free-wheeling and independent as she was in most aspects of her life, Joanie had rules and regulations aplenty this time of year. The most rigid of all was this edict: big ornaments on the bottom of the tree, smaller ones […]


Sunset of Conspiring Clouds

December 6, 2008

Across the Portland area, people are posting to blogs their photos of today’s sunset. It was breathtaking, and I too have pictures to prove it. For those of us living east of the West Hills, memorable sunsets are rare. This is especially true in December and many months to follow because of the persistent rainy […]

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Man vs. Squirrel

December 2, 2008

A squirrel is mocking me. We had a peace pact for a few years. But the critter has had an attitude ever since I removed its nest from the eaves above the front porch. Or maybe it’s because I inadvertently dig up nuts the squirrel has socked away around the yard.


Man at the Park

October 21, 2008

Assumptions are dangerous. That maxim was drilled into me years ago as a newbie journalist. But I’m not writing a news story. I’m speculating about a man at the school park up the street. He was sitting at a table, alone, surrounded by squealing kids and watchful parents. My son, Atticus, was playing nearby on […]


Something’s in the Air

October 11, 2008

At the Portland Farmers Market, roasting chilies perfume every cool breath. Autumn has thinned the crowds but not the produce. Along with poblanos, I buy what may be the year’s last peaches, several varieties of apples, shiitake mushrooms, and more. The once-ubiquitous volunteers registering people to vote are nowhere to be seen beneath the canopy […]

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The Mountain Lion Game

October 4, 2008

Thirteen years ago, a mountain lion looked at me. I still see clearly its long sleek body, two hundred yards away on a bare hilltop. Suzame and I were hiking at Point Reyes National Seashore in California and had reached the highest point, Mt. Wittenberg. At first I thought the mountain lion was a big […]


On the Beach

September 29, 2008

What will the boy remember of yesterday? Years hence, is Atticus, my son of three, doomed to never recall his first day at the new edge of his known world, the Pacific Coast? As I watched him run toward and away from tiny advancing and retreating waves, I realized how fleeting the moment probably was. […]