Sky liar

The wind was up, rain interspersed with sunshine.  One of us was being a gentleman about it, and I’m sad to report it wasn’t me. “I dunno if you want to go up in this,” Justin said politely. “Looks like we’re off for today. I don’t want anyone getting sick.” “I don’t get airsick.” “Well…” … [more]

Binned

Three days after I de-planed at SeaTac and rode home to peel off sticky, faded desert camo for the last time, I was dispatched by my exotically sexy wife to attend to her mother in the mental ward. In Texas. With barely a hug and certainly no kisses under our belts, it seemed early in … [more]

When I used to jog

The last time I remember was along mud-sand walls, buff, sizzling tink-tink-tink not too fast, they can’t shoot for sour batshit, I ran, bowing under the weight boots tight, mags full hands sweated onto parkerized dust “C’mon, Joey!” and he laughed that way like a kid, immortally cheerful, fantasy blue-eyed love doll to the Kurds … [more]

Jaxwords WED 16 JUN 10

Hooliganiacal (hoo-le-guh-nie-i-cal) adj. 1.  Suggestive of or afflicted with insane lawlessness. 2.  Characterized by excessive enthusiasm for aggression. 3.  Obsessed with riding Aprilia motorcycles.

I Hate Myself

Someone needs to be jealous of me right now, and if You won’t do it, I’ll have to. Sitting poolside at the Riviera Golf Club right now, relaxing after a ride on Ducati’s newest Monster baby, the bike in pole position to make people wonder why in heck they ever considered a 696.  For $9995, … [more]

Prepare to Monster

There’s a Monster out there with my name on it, literally. Specifically, a Ducati Monster 796, their new model with the single-sided swingarm, spiffin’ new headlight and other tasty bits.   A little gold foil stickie on the tank says “LEWIS.”  This may be important later; take the wrong Monster out of the paddock at Misano … [more]

Two-Minute Drill

Last fall, I was privileged to teach a writing seminar to wounded warriors of Task Force Phoenix at Fort Lewis, Washington.  Part of the classroom curriculum was a two-minute writing exercise requiring use of an image to convey a feeling.  No particular venue, theme or genre was prescribed; nevertheless, all but one participant wrote a … [more]

Bending the Bard

Poor old Bill.  He zags from genius to fraudulence. Everyone wants a piece of Shakespeare (yeah — I recognize the irony of criticizing the impulse in the very act of typing out his name…).  Quasi-avant garde lit geeks want to rediscover him as Chris Marlowe.  In a perhaps even lower cut, menstruating-edge feminists insist on … [more]