Nicholas and Johnny Fax weren’t the best miners who ever dug into a claim. Ambitious fortune hunters locked into the boom and bust of the Klondike Stampede, they’d spike rails for a season or two in the dry dust of Wasco County, Oregon, get grubstakes together and head north to the Yukon. The first time they … [more]
And what did you hear, my blue-eyed son? And what did you hear, my darling young one? I heard the sound of a thunder, it roared out a warnin’ I heard the roar of a wave that could drown the whole world I heard one hundred drummers whose hands were a-blazin’ I heard ten thousand … [more]
In the bookstore today, I dutifully reported to the display shelf adjacent to U.S. History, where I regularly check to see if our well-written, scrupulously edited, glowingly reviewed and woefully undersold anthology Operation Homecoming is still on offer. I did not find it there. The display of writing on our military experiences in Iraq and … [more]
The story you are about to read is true. The names have been changed to protect the goofy. Once a year, I wheedle Pretty Wife into letting me ride the Isle of Vashon TT, a bumptious fundraiser for the VME (Vintage Motorcycle Enthusiasts, which you should join, Loyal Reader, if only to be annually apprised … [more]
I’m not sure how to say this, other than simply and clearly. An attack on gay Americans is an attack on all Americans. An attack on Muslim Americans is an attack on all Americans’ religious liberty. Attacking a Latinx dance party assaults every American’s right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of beats. Attacking gun culture … [more]
A simple whispered lesson from those who laid down their lives for us.
“__________ is just a number.” Is it, really? Only that? When you’re painting by the numbers, the colors aren’t your own. The amount of weight you lifted ten years ago (or last week): that’s just a number. It means nothing to you now. The amount you lift today is a piece of your life as it … [more]
I only knew “T” because of motorcycles. When we moved in, the guy across the street introduced himself and asked what we had under our bike covers. Tony turned out to be one of the good guys, loaning tools without being asked and even putting us up in his RV for a couple of nights when … [more]