A Tale of Two Fingers….and One Tendon

November, 2009 – Belmont, California

My Japanese garden machete is from Soko Hardware in San Francisco. Soko is one of those urban hardware stores where in addition to finding screws, toilet plungers, and extension cords, there’s a large selection of white paper lamp shades, pottery in dark blues, greens, and golds; metal teapots, and craft tools: rasps and planes and chisels for woodworking; shears and scissors for flower arranging, and gardening tools, so many gardening tools. Continue Reading

Letter From Chur

The first in an occasional series. The last Saturday in January, mid-morning, I left Montpellier. It was cold enough to wear a down vest under my long coat; where I was going would be much colder. The transfer at Mulhouse was uneventful, if awkward: moving my luggage (a massive rolling suitcase, a backpack/duffle bag, and… Continue Reading

The Photo Issue

Pictures from 2017: mostly from our summer trip to southeast Asia, but some are from France. Those from Montpellier I took on 21 December: getting up early on this day is the easiest day during the year to get the morning light. There’s a second page of photos after the first 50. Clicking in a… Continue Reading

Radiohead

On Thursday, November 30, American Public Media (APM) emailed all subscribers that today was the final newsletter edition of “The Writer’s Almanac” – the program would no longer be distributed by APM, which was terminating all contracts with Garrison Keillor and his private media companies after allegations of inappropriate behavior. Continue Reading

The Most Peculiar Interview

Recently I had the oddest experience, although on the surface of it you wouldn’t expect to be so: it was simply an interview at a company. What was disturbing was the company and their interview process, the likes of which I’ve heard about, the faintest whisper of a rumor, but like Big Foot or Atlantis,… Continue Reading

Uber versus tuk-tuk

Prologue: Dawn in Montpellier It was dark when we left our apartment at five in the morning, a Wednesday in mid-July, this time of year already warm. Daysacks over our shoulders, we walked our rolling luggage across the white tile of the nearly deserted Place Comedie to the taxi stand by the Opera House. Annie… Continue Reading