Essays
The quick and the dead
I was 16 years old when
my father asked me if I wanted to be a hero.
The year was 1999, ’round
about late April, and Dad...
In defense of burning books and abalone
Some books should be burned. At least one book should be burned. That book should be Ulysses.
THE WRONG MOLLUSK
I was at the Kapi’olani Farmers...
A portrait of the small town as a young man
I turned off my phone and put it in my desk. I quit Facebook, and closed my email accounts. I deleted my LinkedIn profile,...
The hidden path
I called a good friend heartless this year. Who have I become?
I’ve always prided myself on being a rational, reasonable person. I don’t offend...
‘Cold or not, God is present’
I think about the shoes.
I think about the shoes; 60 of them, lined along the east bank of the Danube River in Budapest, Hungary....
Naked Belief
My favorite professors were the ones who’d set me up a space heater before I arrived. Even in the early fall months, just as...
A long ugly story
Sometime in the fall of 1979 I got a phone call from a friend of my older brother. He wanted to know if I...
The bikini
I remember the first time I felt fat. I was 7 years old, and so excited to spend the day at the pool. I...
