Blog

Read "Bigger Lies are Coming"

9/6/2021

Labor Daze: Flipping the Script?

This month’s featured story is “Bigger Lies Are Coming.” The main character, Phil, is a long-retired autoworker. While the story isn’t about his working years, it seemed a natural choice for Labor Day.

My grandfathers built cars a generation before Phil first stepped onto the shop floor. In my granddads’ day, the 1930s into the 1940s, working conditions were often rotten and employees could be fired at the whim of a foreman. That’s pretty much the way factory life had been, going back to the start of the Industrial Revolution 200 years earlier.

Flash forward to the mid-Twentieth Century. Autoworkers and others had organized, winning compensation and job security my grandfathers could only dream of.

Then the unions overreached. Wage and benefit demands made much of U.S. manufacturing globally uncompetitive . Contract provisions could make it all-but-impossible to terminate an individual for any but the most egregious causes. And public support for unions began to dwindle.

In 1983, about twenty percent of American workers were unionized. Forty years on, that percentage has been halved. As public support for unions waned, the bosses were able to flip the script, effectively lobbying for laws and regulations that amounted to legalized union-busting.

As executive compensation soared to levels that might shame King Midas, pay for everyone else—union and non-union—stagnated.

Then came the pandemic. As the economy re-opened, many employers were shocked—shocked!—to find that some of their people wouldn’t simply return to the old ways when told to do so. Was the cause unemployment benefits, which had been beefed during the pandemic?

Maybe.

But something more might be happening. Maybe people in low-paying jobs—jobs that sometimes were dangerous—won’t come back without a significant bump in pay and improvements in safety. Maybe office workers, having discovered that more time with friends and family is pretty valuable in itself, have no further interest in eighty-hour work weeks and long commutes.

Maybe the script is about to flip back.

8/29/2021

Of Learnings and a Milestone Birthday

About to observe a milestone birthday, I asked myself what I’ve learned over lo these (too) many years. Three of those learnings are below. Many readers are likely to shake their heads, having figured this stuff out well before I did.

That’s cool…

Opt for good enough.

During World War II, the Soviets had a saying: Perfection is the enemy of good enough. Much of their success was due to avoiding complexity when possible, figuring that lots of moving parts only increase the odds of failure.

I would not have wanted to serve in the Soviet army under any circumstances. But it would’ve been a particularly uncomfortable place for perfectionist like me. My natural inclination is to favor the sort of elegant solutions the Russians avoided. But age and (bad) experience has taught me to check myself, to see if some other path might be good enough. I’m inconsistent, but I’m trying.

Patience tends to be rewarded.

Maybe this is a corollary to the Soviet lesson.

I have tendency to go after challenges head first. Sometimes, that’s okay. But other times it amounts to running the football into the center of a very good defensive line. Even success can mean broken bones.

Better to take a moment to assess the situation. To see if there isn’t some less-bruising way to a “good enough” result. Still working on this one, too.

Find the kindest, nicest, smartest person in the world, and convince them to spend the rest of their life with you.

Done and done!

8/23/2021

Knee-Deep in our Own Stuff

Climate change. Pandemic surge. Afghanistan debacle. I’ve been thinking and worrying about all of those things.

But mostly, I’ve been knee-deep in my own stuff. Renewing my driver license. Wondering about a mild pain in my foot. Planning a driving trip.

The plowman in a Sixteenth Century painting, Breughel’s Icarus, probably would understand. (Check out the painting.) It’s is based on a Greek myth in which Icarus, flying with the aid of wax wings, soars too close to the sun. The sun melts the wings, plunging Icarus into the sea, where he drowns.

But this painting isn’t really about Icarus, whose watery death takes place in the background. It’s about the plowman in the foreground. That man is so focused on his own stuff—plowing—that he doesn’t even notice Icarus has fallen from the sky.

I doubt it’s a matter of indifference. We humans tend to focus on the immediate and the near. Why wouldn’t we? A botched job could mean starvation for the plowman. And, heck, I need my driver license not only to legally operate a vehicle, but also to verify my identity at places like a doctor’s office.

But I’m not quite ready to let either the plowman or myself off the hook. If the plowman had noticed a man falling from the sky, could he have shouted to another man in the painting, nearer the sea, who might have saved Icarus?

Me? Well, the People in Charge don’t seek my input on climate policy. But I recycle and opt to pay a little more to get electricity from sources like wind and solar. Pandemic-wise, I’m fully vaccinated, wear a mask in public and social-distance. And while Afghanistan won’t be the only issue I consider during next election, it will be a consideration as I cast my vote.

Also, I’ll keep writing, hoping to influence others. (Thanks for reading, BTW.)

I know, I know. It doesn’t sound like all that much.

But consider a story I heard recently. A sparrow was in the road, lying on his back, tiny feet toward the air. A lark passing by asked why he was doing that.

“I heard the sky will be falling soon,” The sparrow said.

The lark scoffed. “Do you really think you can hold up the sky with those two spindly legs?”

The sparrow shrugged and said, “One does what one can.”

Yep.

8/2/2021

Vaccination: Why the turn to less-than-gentle persuasion?

In the wake of yet another Covid-19 wave and lagging rates of vaccination, many employers plan to impose regular testing on those who choose to go unvaccinated. Other organizations will go further, forcing a choice between vaccination and continued employment. Venues like restaurants and theaters already have re-imposed masking requirements, and some will require proof of vaccination for entry. More measures like these may be on the way.

Why the turn to not-so-gentle persuasion?

Because willful non-vaxxers haven’t been moved by facts. Nor appeals to public safety. Or even by free beer or gift cards or lotteries.

If it were simply about their health, the rest of us might sadly shrug our shoulders. But the unvaccinated are a clear and present contagion threat to lots of our kids. No vaccine is yet approved for those under twelve years of age. Regardless of the precautions their parents take, some of those youngsters will be infected. Some will die. So will people who cannot be vaccinated for health reasons.

Secondarily but still important, consider the potential economic impact. If the virus spike continues, businesses will again close and lay off workers. Would Washington come through with another meaningful relief package like the one that saved many individuals and businesses from financial disaster in 2020? Given our divisive politics and the 2022 election on the horizon, it’s far from a safe bet.

None of this is likely to convince the purposely unvaccinated.

But maybe it will help them to understand that measures the rest of us take or support don’t derive from spite. Or even tough love.

It’s self-defense, pure and simple.

7/26/2021

54 Years after the Detroit Rebellion:

What Have We Learned?

My story “Summer of Love,” takes place on July 23, 1967—the first day of the nearly week-long Detroit Rebellion.

I hope you’ll read the story. But this blog is mostly a reflection about those days.

Unlike the story’s protagonist, I was nowhere near any of the violence. Tanks rolled down a main thoroughfare in my neighborhood and National Guard troops were stationed at familiar intersection. But I didn’t know any of the forty-three people who died or the seven thousand who were arrested. I don’t think I ever was in any of the thousand building that burned.

While I’ve known for a long time what happened, it wasn’t until years later that I began to understand why.

At the time of the rebellion, Detroit still was majority-White city. The city’s White leaders and the White voters who kept them in office tolerated brutality against Blacks by a police department that was nearly all White. Via intentional housing discrimination, they forced Blacks into segregated neighborhoods. Then, when it came time to plan new freeways, they chose routes consciously aimed at destroying thriving Black communities and businesses.

I don’t believe in violence. But given decades of anger, frustration and resentment, I get it.

What have we learned in the fifty-four years since the rebellion?

Check out your news feed. Because we haven’t learned enough.

Not nearly enough.

Read "Summer of Love"

7/19/2021

Words Matter: A Case in Point

Words matter. And loaded words—words that carry meaning beyond the literal—matter even more.

Case in point: communications from the Catholic Church—my church—in the Archdiocese of Detroit. Faced with rising costs, plus declines in the number of clergy and lay members, the archdiocese is grouping neighborhood parishes into “families” of three or four that will share physical resources, priests and staff.

I’m no expert but the Church here has to do something, and this plan sounds like a reasonable approach. In conjunction, the archdiocese also is rolling out a decent-sounding effort to bring congregants closer to each other. Another idea that sounds pretty good.

But language is critical, and some of the words in official archdiocese communications carry baggage that distracts and works against the message.

For instance, we’re told this initiative is “God’s plan.”

Hyperbole, much? I hope God’s behind the “family of parishes” plan, and I’m sure that church leaders did pray before making a decision this big. But we humans have a woeful track record of incorrectly conflating our beliefs and desires with those of the Almighty. How about something like “We believe this is God’s plan.” (Although even that seems over-the-top.)

Catholics also have been told that the success of this initiative would depend, in part, on a word highlighted in a video: trust.

No doubt, the “families of parishes” concept will work only if lay Catholics buy in. But that choice of words—trust? Clueless, given decades of betrayal by Church leaders everywhere who covered up scandal after scandal. Like it or not, even archbishops who have not been complicit are tarred by that brush.

Better in both cases to simply make the rational argument with better-chosen words. Which, in this instance, shouldn’t be hard at all.

Receive an email when new content is posted.

7/10/2021

“The Least I Could Do”…Cop-Out?

Back in high school, a teacher posed this question: “If you had to choose, would you opt for a life of ease and comfort or truth and beauty?”

Being teenagers with absolutely nothing on the line, all of us chose truth and beauty. But choices in the adult world—choices with practical consequences—aren’t nearly as easy or clearly defined.

Consider the unnamed main character of “The Least I Could Do,” a middle manager. As those who’ve had such jobs know, little about middle managers’ lives resembles ease and comfort. At best, they survive in a no-man’s-land, caught between the demands of higher-ups and the human needs and reactions of those they supervise.

Why not just chuck it all and quit?

Sure, that might usher in a period of truth and beauty. But, as bills come due, that period might prove short-lived.

Complicating matters, the main character secretly wants to join a subordinate, the eccentric Emerson, in quietly cynical acts of defiance. But the MC doesn’t do that, because of “…a mortgage, two kids in college and two car payments…” Under the circumstances, “the most I could do was pretend not to notice” what Emerson was up to.

One day, the main character’s boss witnesses Emerson velcroing the nameplate of a co-worker to a fabric wall holding many other nameplates of the “furloughed.” The boss orders the MC to fire Emerson and then place Emerson’s nameplate on that wall to “make a point.”

Unable to change the boss’s mind, the MC begins the bureaucratic process required by the company’s Human Resources Department. When the documentation is complete, the main character considers whether or not to actually send it on to Human Resources.

Disobeying the big boss is the objectively “right” thing to do. In fact, the MC considers writing “Emerson a commendation glowing enough to bullet-proof him, at least for a while.”

But only for a while. Even a commendation won’t save Emerson’s job indefinitely. And it would probably result in the MC’s own firing. The main character sends the memo. Then, alone in the office long after the close of business, the MC drops Emerson’s nameplate into a dumpster.

Now, the boss will not be able to make a point by adding Emerson’s nameplate to the memorial wall. This is an act of defiance by the MC. But a safe one, and only sort of defiant. As the character reflects, “It was the least I could do.” Short of doing nothing, it probably was the very least.

I sent the original draft of “The Least I Could Do” to others for critique. One of those folks would have preferred the MC defy the boss and felt the ending (which I kept) was an unsatisfying cop-out.

But how many of us really would choose differently? Instead, might some of us rationalize saving our own skins, as the main character does?

Not admirable, and definitely a cop-out.

Which is the point.

If stories set in an office environment interest you, you may also want to read:

Darwin’s Monkey: Phil was my boss. Was my boss. No official announcement, but reliable word had been out…Read more

Raptured: Here’s how shit-canning works at our shop. Near the end of the day one is summoned to a conference room…Read more

Squashing a Grasshopper: Usually by this time, Darwin and I had the place to ourselves. But on that day, a security guard stood near as Darwin dropped personal belongings into a cardboard box…Read more

Receive an email when new content is posted.

7/5/2021

No Time for Shame

Back in The Day, when students behaved badly in class, my teacher would call them out. “Be ashamed for 10 minutes,” he’d say. “But after class. We don’t have time now.”

The teacher’s point: shame was not the issue. And dwelling on that uncomfortable feeling only drained time and energy from learning and applying the lesson at hand.

I thought of that teacher this past week while reading, yet again, about ways some White folks deal with their shame when confronted with the facts of structural racism. They’re passing laws to keep kids from learning about race-based inequities that have benefited (and continue to benefit) Whites at the expense of Blacks.

Because learning about those things shames White students and their parents.

What sorts of things? Uncomfortable facts.

The wealth gap, for instance. Whites as a group are hugely wealthier than Blacks. Consider home ownership, just one of several race-related factors. For most Americans, a home is the family’s most valuable asset. As home equity increases, wealth grows. In time that wealth, in the form of the dwelling or cash from a sale, is passed on to the next generation. But redlining and formally restricted neighborhoods denied generations of Black Americans that path to wealth. And, while those practices are now illegal, don’t kid yourself. Housing discrimination remains alive and well.

Take a look at health outcomes. As a group, Whites have a big advantage over Black people. In part, this is because Black people are more comfortable with Black doctors. Yet, while Blacks represent about 13% of the U.S. population, only 5% of all doctors are Black. It’s not hard to trace a line back to racial discrepancies in education. Is it illegal to provide a lesser level of public education to Black kids? Sure. But that practice never went away, and continues to advantage many White youngsters over their Black counterparts.

Tip of the iceberg.

Should pointing out facts like these produce shame in White Americans?

Of course.

For centuries, people who look like me have had huge, unfair advantages relative to Black people.

I think my teacher would tell White folks there’s no shame in being ashamed; that it’s a perfectly rational response. But he’d also tell them that shame is not useful. To deal with it on their own time.

So if we must, let’s be ashamed for 10 minutes. Later.

Right now, no matter how uncomfortable it may be for White people, let’s focus our time and energy on identifying structural racism where it exists.

And ending it.

Request an email when new content is posted

Question or comment

6/28/2021

Darwin’s Monkey…a First Step into the Twilight Zone?

Recently, a streaming service premiered a new version of “The Twilight Zone,” a TV series that debuted in 1959 and has had oh-so-many revivals since.

I haven’t watched many of the new episodes, but I recall that the original often examined the disappointment—sometimes even the horror—that can occur when people get exactly what they think they want.

My story, “Darwin’s Monkey,” can be read as a sort of prequel to one of those “Twilight Zone” episodes. Set in a survival-of-the-fittest corporate jungle, the main character brings down Darwin, his boss, and takes that man’s place on the evolutionary ladder.

To be clear, Darwin commits fraud for personal gain. He’s nothing like a good guy. But the main character who turns him in really isn’t any better. He blows the whistle partly out of fear of losing his own job, which is reasonable. But his motives are at best mixed…he also knows that turning Darwin in is likely to result in his own promotion. And he has no mixed feelings about that.

Does Darwin know what the main character did? Probably. But what good would ranting and recrimination do?

As the story closes, Darwin places the baseball cap he’s been wearing on the main character’s head. A sort of transfer of the target that had been on Darwin’s own back.

A warning and a curse.

Read “Darwin’s Monkey”

Read other stories

Question or comment

Request an email when new content is posted

6/19/2021

Juneteenth and the Myth of One-and-Done

This week President Biden signed into a law a new Federal holiday to celebrate Juneteenth—the nineteenth of June.

Full disclosure: Until a few years ago, I hadn’t heard of Juneteenth, even though I’ve had a lifelong interest in Civil War history. According to historian Henry Louis Gates, that day is “the most popular annual celebration of emancipation from slavery in the United States.”

By way of brief background, Robert E. Lee’s army surrendered in April 1865, ending most fighting in the Civil War. Even so, Federal troops in meaningful numbers didn’t arrive in Texas until June of that year. On June 19, Union Major General Gordon Granger issued an order that began, “The people of Texas are informed that, in accordance with a proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free.”

But slave owners tended to keep that information to themselves until bluecoats or a Federal agent showed up to enforce General Granger’s order. In fact, legal slavery continued in Maryland and Delaware until December 1865, when the 13th Amendment was ratified by 27 of the 36 states. All states eventually ratified the amendment, although Delaware waited until 1901; Kentucky until 1976.

In America—the White America I know—we love to believe we’ve accomplished a goal so we can move on to the next thing. One and done.

But it seldom works that way, especially when the issue at hand is racial justice. Consider:

Slavery, itself. The 13th Amendment ended slavery as a legal institution. But as the years wore on, states in the former Confederacy enacted laws that made it easier to imprison Black people. Prisoners condemned to hard labor were often rented out by prisons to work on plantations. Slavery by other means.

Voting. The Fifteenth Amendment, ratified in 1870, states that “The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” Yet by the 1880s, grandfather laws, poll taxes, and literacy tests did abridge that right. Laws like those continued in force until passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1965. Fast-forward to the present. In the wake of 2020 election results that saw conservatives lose both the presidency and the senate, hundreds of laws to restrict voting rights are under consideration at the state level. Jim Crow 2.0.

Anti-Black Violence. The original Jim Crow laws were enforced in the South by the Ku Klux Klan via burnings, lynchings and other acts of intimidation. In cities both North and South, Whites rioted when Black business people became too prosperous. Today? Look no further than George Floyd and so many other victims of police killings.

One and done? Hardly.

Martin Luther King believed that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” But there still are lots of people tugging it in the other direction. It’s up to the rest of us to make sure they don’t succeed.

Scroll down for more blog posts

Read a flash novel: Lost in Pittsburgh

Read other Stories

Question or Comment?

Receive an email notification when new content is added.

6/12/2021

Lost in Pittsburgh…One More Time

I've often blogged about chapters of Lost in Pittsburgh as I released them on the site. Sometimes the subject was how they came to be. Other times what I thought about as I pounded the keys. And a lot of other stuff.

Here in one place is a—I was about to say “curated” versions of those blogs. But instead, let’s just call them slightly edited.

Posted 1/17/2021

Submitted for Your Approval:

Chapter One of a New Flash Novel

Just as “flash” short stories are considerably shorter than traditional stories, a flash novel—this one, at least—is shorter than a traditional novel. You can probably read a chapter in less than five minutes.

Chapter One introduces Augie Olszewski, a cynic in late middle age who’d been meandering through life. The meandering—that’s going to change for Augie and his lover, Nina Frey—in ways they can’t imagine.

A couple of personal notes. The novel is set in the Pittsburgh area, where I lived for more than a dozen years. It’s a nice town, with lots of nice people. But, as Augie observes, the area’s quirky roads and interstates can be very tough to navigate. Like him, I was often literally lost in Pittsburgh.

Another observation…In Chapter One Augie has a confrontation of sorts with a cop. At first, Augie plays it for laughs and the policeman is patient. I wrote that section a few years before police violence against people of color was the issue it rightfully has become (and should have been a long time ago). It didn’t occur to me then, but now—with all that has happened since—I see the scene as a sort of study in White privilege.

Posted 3/28/2021

Lost in Pittsburgh: Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

I know a young man who, returning home from his first few months of college, met up with his high school buddies. Afterward, a little sadly, he reflected, “Those guys have not changed at all."

Sometimes, like that young man, we recognize big changes in ourselves. But it seems to me that important changes tend to creep up on us, often the result of random experiences.

Take Augie Olszewski, for instance, one of the major characters in Lost in Pittsburgh.

Augie, an amiable cynic with an anti-authority streak, had been phoning it in at work for decades. Then the CEO plucks him out of obscurity and, by Chapter 6, he’s the big boss’s go-to person. He voluntarily works long hours and cares about his job—not a bad thing, in itself. But in the process, Augie’s empathy has taken a big hit. Nina, his significant other, wonders, “Who or what was Augie becoming?”

Also in Chapter 6, as Nina’s successful career as a mutual fund manager seems to be slipping away. She’s ch-ch-ch-ch-changing, too—albeit in less obvious ways. Watching TV footage of protestors on television, she reflects on what might have been: “There were nuns among the protestors—could’ve been me, if things had played out differently.”

Posted 4/12/2021

Augie’s Dramatic Career Upswing:

Can Stuff Like That Really Happen?

In Chapter 7 of Lost in Pittsburgh Augie, whose career had flat lined for decades, becomes a member of his company’s executive team.

As I worked out the plotting, I wondered about plausibility. Why hadn’t Augie long ago looked for a better opportunity elsewhere? And why had his ability gone unrecognized to that point?

Since I stuck with that scenario—yeah, I think it’s plausible.

In terms of Augie’s talent going unrecognized... Well, gosh. That happens all the time, in organizations large and small. Managers may assume that, if a person hasn’t advanced more than x over some period of time, they never will. Also, pains in the backside like Augie rarely get promotions. (Which often leads them to become even bigger pains in the backside.)

Why didn’t Augie take the initiative, find another place to work where he’d be more appreciated? Inertia, maybe. It’s a hassle to move from one employer to another. And, possibly, fear of the unknown. You know what they say about the grass looking greener, but ending up a good deal more brown?

Augie’s dramatic rise, while rare, could happen.

Although, as we’re starting to see in the novel, that can come at a cost.

Posted 4/24/2021

Lost in Pittsburgh: Nina, Alan and Shakespeare

In Chapter 8, Alan Bessler gets fleshed-out a bit.

To this point, he’d made some cameo appearances as Augie Olszewski’s sidekick. But the two had been drifting apart, and something Augie does brings the relationship to an end. A sympathetic Nina visits Alan. Alan, filters no longer functioning, forces Nina to face some uncomfortable truths in the course of a Shakespeare-laced diatribe.

As I thought about that Alan-Nina scene, I wondered if the Shakespeare allusions might be too much.

Why would a modern non-English major know so much Shakespeare?

As noted earlier in the flash novel, Alan is a would-be actor who “dreamed of playing Hamlet or Macbeth.” And, in other scenes, he peppers his speech with allusions to various plays and often uses the sort of archaic language we associate with Shakespeare’s time.

My guess is that even many well-read folks haven’t experienced much Shakespeare since high school. So I tried to make the allusions understandable in context. For instance, in the course of comparing Nina to Ophelia, Alan notes that Ophelia and Hamlet also were a couple. When Alan decides that Nina is more like Lady Macbeth, he says that Nina, like Lady Macb, “filled her man with the holy spirit of ambition.” (Not a fair comparison, but that’s Alan for you.)

Even so, why go there? Allusions can nuance and/or add to a reader’s appreciation. Those who already understand the plays Alan mentions will, I hope, see something beyond what he explains. And for anyone else who may be interested, that internet-search thingy can be useful.

Posted 5/22/2021

Nina: Fitting in?

Lost in Pittsburgh can be read as Nina Frey’s quest to find her place in the world. Recall that, as a young woman, she joins a religious community. But due to her brashness, her cockiness, the head of the order asks her to take some time away to consider if this is the life for her. She doesn’t kick Nina out forever, telling her, “…every door swings both ways.” But as Nina leaves, she slams shut a literal door.

If Nina doesn’t belong there, where does she belong? In another flashback, MBA in hand, she interviews for an entry-level job with a socially responsible mutual fund. During the interview, Nina is disillusioned to realize that the fund also invests in companies that seem anything but socially responsible.

Still, Nina takes the job, telling herself that most other companies in the portfolio are socially responsible. But once she’s promoted to portfolio manager and is the one calling the shots, Nina continues to invest in the bad actors.

Nina becomes a “priestess of Mammon,” albeit an uncomfortable one, because what she does is incompatible with who she is.

Posted 5/8/2021

Lost in Pittsburgh, Chapter 9:

Of Lives, Economics and Luck

Chapter 9 of Lost in Pittsburgh begins with the funeral of Chaim Minsker, who committed suicide. He’d taken out an ill-advised home mortgage in a desperate, futile attempt to resuscitate the business his grandfather had started. Now, thanks to proceeds of a life insurance policy, Chaim’s widow will be able to pay off the mortgage and keep the home.

Nina feels guilty, wondering if she could have tried harder to dissuade Chaim from taking out the mortgage in the first place. Augie has no empathy at all: “Chaim was an adult,” he says. “He made a bad decision. Foreclosure was a logical consequence.”

Nina’s wrong about her direct responsibility—probably no one could’ve talked Chaim out of the mortgage. But she does bear some indirect culpability. As we see in Chapter 4, years earlier Nina rationalized her principles to become a “priestess of Mammon,” embracing an economic system that she understood rewards cunning and ruthlessness. It was that system that drove Chaim to take his own life.

Augie? As Lost in Pittsburgh began, he was just another worker-bee, albeit a cynical one. But by Chapter 9, he’s riding high career-wise and has adopted the point of view we hear so often from economically successful people—others simply aren’t as smart or hard-working. Their failure is their own fault. And a subtext: My success is of entirely of my own making.

Yet a lot of smart people who work very hard barely scrape by. Because in addition to intelligence and hard work, financial success in America depends on luck.

People born in the United States have a leg up to begin with. Being raised in the right zip code helps a ton. And never underestimate the importance of parents and the values they pass down.

The list could go on.

Posted 6/5/2021

Lost in Pittsburgh: The Conclusion…Kinda, Sorta

Is the end ever really the end?

I mean outside of a feel-good movie where, in the course of a couple of hours, all issues are resolved and a dollop of poetic justice meted out. In my view, the only real closure is the point at which we assume room temperature. Otherwise, life is one iffy choice, leading to another, and still more after that.

That’s how Chapter 11, the conclusion of Lost in Pittsburgh, plays out.

Recall, Nina has been unmoored for most of her adult life. As a young woman, she thought she wanted to join a religious community. But due to her brashness, her cockiness the head of the order asks Nina to take some time away to consider if this is the life for her. Nina then joins a mutual fund company, where she’s never really comfortable with the compromises she must make to be successful.

In Chapter 10, Nina quits that job, finally realizing that she “…didn’t belong with [my boss] and the others, anymore…”

So where does Nina belong? As the final chapter opens, she thinks it might be with the G-20 protestors—a mélange of groups and individuals united by a common interest in opposing injustice, economic and otherwise.

A bus driver asks if someone like Nina really belongs there. To herself Nina acknowledges, “I wasn’t sure. Not at all.”

Nina does join with the protestors. Briefly recalling her time in the convent she considers herself, "…Once again, a novice in a new community.”

Happy ending?

Kinda, sorta. Here’s the thing, though. Will Nina’s feeling of inclusion continue past the protest? Has she really found her way to the place she belongs?

If I were sure, I would’ve written a little more to show how much Nina has in common with the others, new friendships she begins, and so on. But I think she really just closes her eyes, takes a leap and hopes for the best.

I hope Nina finds the sense of community she's looking for. But as the flash novel concludes, I suspect she's not so much arrived a destination as she has embarked on yet another journey.

Receive an email notification when new content is added.

Read other Stories

Question or Comment?

6/5/2021

Lost in Pittsburgh: The Conclusion…Kinda, Sorta

(You may want to read the final chapter of Lost in Pittsburgh before reading the rest of this post.)

Is the end ever really the end?

That’s how Chapter 11, the conclusion of Lost in Pittsburgh, plays out.

In Chapter 10, Nina quits that job, finally realizing that she “…didn’t belong with [my boss] and the others, anymore…”

A bus driver asks if someone like Nina really belongs there. To herself Nina acknowledges, “I wasn’t sure. Not at all.”

Nina does join with the protestors. Briefly recalling her time in the convent she considers herself, "…Once again, a novice in a new community.”

Happy ending?

Kinda, sorta. Here’s the thing, though. Will Nina’s feeling of inclusion continue past the protest? Has she really found her way to the place she belongs?

I hope Nina finds the sense of community she's looking for. But as the flash novel concludes, I suspect she's not so much arrived a destination as she has embarked on yet another journey.

PS: Hope you enjoyed reading Lost in Pittsburgh as much as I did writing it. I’m probably going back to shorter flash fiction pieces, at least for a while. In the meantime, check out the nearly two dozen free-to-read stories already on the site.

Read Lost in Pittsburgh

Request an email notification when a story or other new content is posted.

5/22/2021

Nina: Fitting in?

Nina becomes a “priestess of Mammon,” albeit an uncomfortable one, because what she does is incompatible with who she is. As the newly published Chapter 10 begins, Nina has been shocked into facing this dichotomy.

Check out Chapter 10 and all available chapters here.

In the upcoming Chapter 11—the final chapter—Nina makes a pair of very big decisions. Will those decisions lead her to the place she belongs, the people she belongs with?

Request an email notification when the final chapter is published, and when other new content is posted.

Read the flash novel, Lost in Pittsburgh

5/15/2021

Of Automakers and the Unemployed

In the part of the world where I live, public transportation is a joke. Almost everyone needs access to a personal vehicle.

Certain automakers, faced with a part shortage that may last a year or more, have decided to curtail production of basic transportation, focusing resources on big-ticket models with high profit margins. Which, in turn, will drive up the price of such vehicles as family sedans, both new and used.

This won’t matter much to folks with the means to purchase any sort of vehicle that catches their fancy. Everyone else? Maybe they can hitch a ride on a truck or SUV.

Recall, some of the auto companies doing this are the ones we bailed out with tax dollars during the Great Recession.

Overwhelming, the gratitude.

Another thing. While the Bureau of Labor Statistics says that more than 10 million Americans are jobless, some businesses report difficulty in filling positions. Many of them blame that on a federal program that adds $300 per week to state unemployment benefits. This, they posit, results in an income so high that people don’t want to work.

Could there be other factors at play? That Covid thing, for instance. With many schools still not back to five-day, in-person classes, might child care be an issue? Health concerns, maybe? There still are hordes of unvaccinated people out there. Some, proudly so. (Sigh.)

But, sure. Some percentage of the unemployed really do stay home because unemployment benefits net them more than what many businesses want to pay. Which is to say that some of the unemployed are acting in their own economic interest.

Just like…well, the auto companies, for instance.

5/8/2021

Lost in Pittsburgh, Chapter 9:

Of Lives, Economics and Luck

(Suggestion: Read Chapter 9 and then come back here.)

Yet a lot of smart people who work very hard barely scrape by. Because in addition to intelligence and hard work, financial success in America depends on luck.

People born in the United States have a leg up to begin with. Being raised in the right zip code helps a ton. And never underestimate the importance of parents and the values they pass down.

The list could go on.

Will Nina and/or Augie figure any of this out for themselves in the final two chapters? And if so, what will they do about it? Stay tuned…

Read a story set in a neighborhood like the one where my mother grew up. (Plot itself is pure fiction.)

5/1/2021

(Early) Mother’s Day Thoughts

My mother died five years ago this weekend, just past her ninetieth birthday and a little short of Mother’s Day.

Given the place and time into which she was born, her story was not unique. But it always fascinated me.

Mom grew up in Southwest Detroit in an immigrant neighborhood where most people preferred to speak Polish. As she told it, while you’d never mistake the area for Disneyland, it was reasonably safe place to be a kid. Even though the basement of the family home had once been a speakeasy. Even though the candy store where Mom traded pennies for Mary Janes was a front for the numbers racket.

When my mother was a teen, she wanted roller skates more than anything. Finally, one Sunday in December, she and my grandfather went to Hudson’s Department Store to buy a pair. Riding down the escalator, holding the box tightly against her side, Mom was thrilled. Then, an announcement over the public address system: Pearl Harbor had been attacked. Thousands dead. America at war. Decades later, she recalled wondering what right she had to be happy.

These days, my own childhood memories are grainy as old 8mm home movies. Mom, unexpectedly parked at the curb to drive me home from school on a cold day. Helping me memorize prepositions—homework whose purpose I wonder if either of us ever grasped. Reminding me that anything worth doing, is worth doing right. (Advice I wish I’d followed more often.)

As a child or adult, I wish I’d said thank you more often.

Toward the end, when I’d come to visit, Mom often would ask, “How come you’re so nice to me?”

Right back at you, Mom.

4/24/2021

Lost in Pittsburgh: Nina, Alan and Shakespeare

In Lost in Pittsburgh’s just-posted Chapter 8, Alan Bessler gets fleshed-out a bit.

As I thought about that Alan-Nina scene, I wondered if the Shakespeare allusions might be too much.

Why would a modern non-English major know so much Shakespeare?

My guess is that even many well-read folks haven’t experienced much Shakespeare since high school. So I tried to make the allusions understandable in context. For instance, in the course of comparing Nina to Ophelia, Alan notes that Ophelia and Hamlet also were a couple. When Alan decides that Nina is more like Lady Macbeth, he says that Nina, like Lady Mcb, “filled her man with the holy spirit of ambition.” (Not a fair comparison, but that’s Alan for you.)

Even so, why go there? As I noted in the February 22 blog (scroll down), allusions can nuance and/or add to a reader’s appreciation. Those who already understand the plays Alan mentions will, I hope, see something beyond what he explains. And for anyone else who may be interested, as also noted in the earlier blog, that internet-search thingy can be useful.

Anyway, readers. I hope you like Chapter 8. With only three chapters to go, things are about to get worse for Nina. Lots worse.

4/19/2021

Covid communications and the Truth: Handle with care

This past week, the CDC and FDA recommended a pause in use of Johnson & Johnson’s Covid-19 vaccine as it investigates “cases of a rare and severe type of blood clot in individuals after receiving the…vaccine.”

Stop using the J&J product until experts evaluate a previously unknown potential risk. No-brainer, right? Failing to pause and communicate the information would be both immoral and an unforgivable breach of trust.

But, based on a career of crafting corporate messages about difficult subjects, I’m guessing the decision was hotly debated.

In every organization, some subset of decision-makers always want to sit on negative information. In this case, they’d argue that the risk seemed small—the number of people reporting blood clots was less than one per million doses. And what if it turned out the blood clotting was unrelated to the vaccine? Pausing before all the data had been sifted could feed the disinformation machine and further raise concerns among those who already were hesitant to be vaccinated, at all.

As I said, an immoral position. But even as a matter of pure pragmatism, it wouldn’t work. Secrets—especially secrets that potentially impact the health and welfare of a large number of people—tend to find their way out. When that happens the organization is seen as a less-credible source about both the matter in question and other information it may subsequently release.

Acting and communicating as the CDC and FDA did probably will make it harder to convince the doubters they should vaccinate. But the fallout from failing to act and communicate candidly would be much, much worse.

More blog posts below this one

4/12/2021

Augie’s Dramatic Career Upswing:

Can Stuff Like That Really Happen?

In Chapter 7 of my flash novel Lost in Pittsburgh Augie, whose career had flat lined for decades, becomes a member of his company’s executive team.

As I worked out the plotting, I wondered about plausibility. Why hadn’t Augie long ago looked for a better opportunity elsewhere? And why had his ability gone unrecognized to that point?

Since I stuck with that scenario—yeah, I think it’s plausible.

Augie’s dramatic rise, while rare, could happen.

Although, as we’re starting to see in the novel, that can come at a cost.

More blog posts below this one

4/4/2021

Remembrance of an Easters Past

Easter of …Let’s say, the mid Nineteen-Fifties…

My small self and tinier-still little brother stand in the driveway wearing topcoats, just like Dad’s, over newly purchased “good” clothes we will outgrow before there will be an occasion to wear them again. Our fedoras, while cute, are ineffective against the early spring chill.

Dad, starts his 8 mm camera and Mom, obviously expecting my little sister in a few months, stands beside him. “Come toward the camera, boys,” she says.

I do as I’m told, performing a silly walk while making a sillier face. My brother notices, and does the same. This displeases our parents, but not enough to withhold baskets full of chocolate bunnies and marshmallow chicks.

More candy than any child should possess at one time.

My brother and I—and eventually our sister—will remake the same film every year.

Until early in my junior high school career, when I decide I am too old for such foolishness.

But the basket full of more candy than any child should possess at one time— I'm still not too old for that.

3/28/2021

Lost in Pittsburgh: Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

I know a young man who, returning home from his first few months of college, met up with his high school buddies. Afterward, a little sadly, he reflected, “Those guys have not changed at all."

Sometimes, like that young man, we recognize big changes in ourselves. But it seems to me that important changes tend to creep up on us, often the result of random experiences.

Take Augie Olszewski, for instance, one of the major characters in Lost in Pittsburgh. (Chapter 6 now posted. All available chapters free to read.)

Also in Chapter 6, as Nina’s successful career as a mutual fund manager seems to be slipping away, she’s ch-ch-ch-ch-changing, too—albeit in less obvious ways. Watching TV footage of protestors on television, she reflects on what might have been: “There were nuns among the protestors—could’ve been me, if things had played out differently”

Back to the future? Stay tuned.

More blog posts below this one

3/21/2021

Three Lessons from the Pandemic

There’s a saying in politics: Never let a good crisis go to waste.

In the political context, cynical as hell. But it might just be a sentiment we can leverage with regard to the pandemic. The war against Covid is far from won. But in the aftermath and going forward, here are three lessons we might consider applying.

Public health matters. In the U.S. and elsewhere, much pandemic suffering and death has been a direct result of government lack of preparedness. Less failure to plan, as failure to execute contingency plans already in place. For lack of equipment stockpiles. For tardiness to focus. For hoping the bad stuff would all go away…as if hope and neglect were a strategy.

So do people who do the “invisible” stuff. Health care workers, first responders and all those whose efforts have made the pandemic less awful than it might have been deserve our heartfelt thanks and admiration. But where would we be without the folks who deliver packages, stock shelves, haul away trash? People whose jobs don’t pay much, for the most part. How about showing our thanks by providing a living wage?

And please: Let’s give each other a break. Angry recriminations don’t change minds. Ditto even the most cogent, fact-filled argument. Listening to and understanding others is the key. Pretty hard, this business of changing our hearts. But arguably the key to fixing everything else.

Next time: Chapter 6 of the flash novel Lost in Pittsburgh. The first five chapters are available, and you can read a summary of chapters 1-4 in the 3/14/2021 blog post, just below this one.

More blog posts below this one

3/14/2021

Lost in Pittsburgh: The Story So Far…

I just posted Chapter 5 of the flash novel, Lost in Pittsburgh. This is the story of Augie and Nina, significant others whose lives and values will be challenged in ways they never foresaw.

If you haven’t caught up on the first four chapters—less than 1,000 words each—I hope you’ll take a read. But for those looking for a “Cliff Notes” version of the story so far…

The setting is Pittsburgh, during the summer of 2009, the first year of the Great Recession. The G20, leaders of the world’s largest economies, plan to meet there in September.

Augie has been coasting through a mediocre career as a promotional writer at a mortgage company. For years he and his best friend, Alan Bessler, had stoked each other’s cynicism and collaborated on modestly subversive practical jokes at the office. Augie’s big chance comes when the CEO Fred Newcomb, having just fired his former speechwriter, turns to Augie in a pinch. Could this be the start of something big? Pick up the story in Chapter 5.

Nina, once close to becoming a nun, was asked to leave. Twenty years on, she’s a successful mutual fund manager. Her fund always had performed quite well, but in the previous quarter she’d topped her category for the first time. But far from being joyful, Nina feels depressed and doesn’t know why. In Chapter 5, she figures it out and plans her next move.

By way of other background…Two years earlier Chaim Minsker, a neighbor and mutual friend of Augie and Nina, was worried about his failing neighborhood stationery store. Chaim’s plan to turn things around required financing. But no bank would give him a business loan, so in that era of easy money he mortgaged the home his grandfather built. Nina and Augie try to talk Chaim out of taking such a big of risk, but he gets the mortgage, anyway. We’ll get back to Chaim’s situation in a future chapter.

And, as always, if you know someone who might be interested in Lost in Pittsburgh or any of the free stories on this site, please send them a link.

More blog posts below this one

3/7/2021

After Winning the War vs. Covid,

Will We Do What It Takes to Win the Peace?

The most life-changing of events can seem ordinary at the time. For instance, a single date while I was in college led to a happy marriage now in its fifth decade.

Less-positive stuff can show up that way, too. The current unpleasantness, for instance.

I don’t think anyone knows exactly when the pandemic began. But it started to get real for me almost exactly a year ago. I was attending a funeral and, (per custom in those days), the other attendees and I shook hands.

One person—and one person only—used hand-sanitizer after each touch. I decided I should start doing that, too.

And the rest—masks, distancing, frequent hand-washing, et al—is, as they say, history.

I’m a news junky, and from what I gather most scientists figure we’ll eventually beat Covid. But given uncertainties like vaccine distribution snafus, mistrust and mutation of the virus itself, no one’s foolish enough to forecast a date for the end of this war.

Even so, after V-Day, what might “normal” look like?

Lots of us long to once again hug loved ones we don’t live with. Enjoy unmasked gatherings with family and friends. Have an unworried meal in a restaurant.

The good old days, right?

But here’s the thing. Some aspects of those pre-pandemic days were awful. For instance, the gap between rich and poor was widening then, and has yawned wider still over the past year. Racial tensions, already on the rise, have only worsened. And equal access to health care remains more concept than reality.

Eventually, we’ll win the war against Covid.

Afterward, will we do what takes to win the peace?

More blog posts below this one

3/1/2021

Flash Novel, Chapter 4

Ever have a day when you feel lousy, even though you should feel great? That’s Nina’s dilemma in Chapter 4 of the flash novel Lost in Pittsburgh. To celebrate a big career accomplishment, co-workers take Nina out for drinks. But that doesn’t change her mood. So what the heck’s going on? Check out any or all of the first four chapters here.

Coming up: Chapter 5. In the next installment, Augie’s career seems to be taking off. And Nina thinks she’s solved a big problem. So what could go wrong?

Vaxxing, Part II: I got my second COVID vaccination this week. Some people have felt lousy afterward for a day or two, but all I had was a slightly achy arm for a day. From what I hear and read, the more of us who are vaccinated, the less chance for the virus to mutate into something even more awful. And the sooner all of us can get back some version of a normal life. Bottom line: If you’re eligible, get the blessed shot.

PS: I used to help large organizations communicate with their stakeholders. While pandemic-related communication under President Biden has been infinitely superior to that of his predecessor, much of it still has been muddled and confusing. Is it easier to be an armchair quarterback than execute on the field? Oh, yeah. Even so, sometime soon I’ll devote a blog to second-guessing what’s gone wrong and how to fix it.

More blog posts below this one

2/22/2021

Reality is an Allusion

A college lit teacher reports that her students—literature majors, for crying out loud—simply ignore allusions—passing references to a person, event, thing or part of another text. In doing so, they often miss the point, or at least much of the point.

How do allusions work? Consider the film version of The Wizard of Oz. Near the end of the movie Dorothy, having learned there’s no place like home, clicks her heels three times to get back to the place she belongs.

But suppose a fictional character in another film or story or poem says, “I did not to click my heels three times.” By making a choice different from Dorothy’s, the character implies that he or she already is in the right place. (Even if that place is bizarre as Oz.)

Or, at the risk of being both self-referential and self-serving, consider my flash novel, Lost in Pittsburgh. A cop asks Augie, the main character, “Sir, why are you here?” In return, Augie asks if the officer is an existentialist.

Kind of amusing, (at least, I think so).

Augie understands the cop is asking a literal question, but chooses to respond as if it were the beginning of a philosophical discussion. More to the point, existentialists believe—and sure, this is an enormous oversimplification—but existentialists believe that we define our own meaning, that what we are is what we decide to be. Over the course of the narrative, Augie will have to decide the kind of person he wants to be.

But suppose a reader who knows nothing about Wizard finds the clicking of heels three times an odd turn of phrase. Nearly everyone has a phone, right? A web search of click heels three times brings up more than 33 million results. Existentialist turns up nearly 10 million hits. Petrarch: 3 million. Pandora: 255 million. And on, and on.

Here’s the point: Allusions nuance and/or add to a reader’s appreciation of a narrative or poem. Without them, a lot of writing might end up weary, stale, flat and unprofitable.

Next time: Chapter 4 of the flash novel, Lost in Pittsburgh. Career-wise, Nina’s at the top of her game. So what’s bugging her?

More blog posts below this one

2/7/2021

Happy Anniversary!

This site went live one year ago this month.

In some ways, it’s gone exactly as I expected. You (and anyone else) can now read nearly two dozen flash fiction stories for free, usually with a blog commentary on each story as it posts. And a number of readers have gotten in touch with me to comment, criticize or just make an observation. Please keep it coming!

One difference I didn’t foresee was in blog topics during weeks without a new story post. During those weeks, I planned to write about writing. Sometimes I did that. But just after the site went live, all hell broke loose: Pandemic. Divisive politics. Overt hatred at a mind-blowing level. So the blog also sometimes addressed those issues.

Where does the site go from here? Maybe some more experiments, like the flash novel Lost in Pittsburgh, the first two chapters of which you can read here. (Chapter three should be along in a week, or so.)

But what do you think? Let me hear from you about what to start, stop or continue. And, I’m always looking for more readers. If you know someone else who might like what we do here, please send them a link to something you've enjoyed.

Coming up: Chapter 3 of Lost in Pittsburgh

As noted above, Chapter 3 will be along soon. In chapters 1-2 we met the two main characters. Augie Olszewski is a cynic in late middle age who’s been meandering through life. The meandering—that’s going to change for Augie and the people around him, in ways they can’t imagine. Nina Frey is a successful mutual fund manager and self-described “alpha,” who once thought she wanted to be a nun. Big changes in store for her, too.

Stay tuned.

1/31/2021

Flash Novel Chapter Two: Meet Nina Frey:

Mutual Fund Manager and Ex-Nun

(Plus, a Report on Being Vaxxed)

Chapter Two of my flash novel, Lost in Pittsburgh, is from the point of view of Nina Frey. She’s the significant other of Augie Olszewski, whom you met in Chapter One.

Nina is a successful mutual fund manager, a self-described “alpha.” Why would she get involved with an unambitious cynic like Augie? For that matter, why was Nina once a nun? And why was she asked to leave?

Check out either or both chapters here.

On being Vaxxed

This week I got my first dose of COVID vaccine at a site run by the local hospital where I’d signed up.

Like most people, I want all the immunity I can get. But the invitation did present a sort of ethical dilemma. Other than being over 65—and, yeah, overweight—I’m not particularly at risk. Would someone else benefit more from the dose I received?

From what I’d read, people who know more about this stuff than I do urged anyone offered the vaccination to take it. So I did.

I masked-up, went to the location and stood in a distanced line for about 20 minutes to register. Registration probably took less than five minutes. Then, maybe 10 minutes later I received the vaccination, itself.

Pretty much like a routine flu shot. I understand that others sometimes feel lousy for the next day or two. But all I had was a little arm soreness, which went away in less than 48 hours.

The New York Times has an excellent Q/A all about the vaccine. Check it out here.

Totally unsolicited advice: If you’re eligible but haven’t yet signed up for the vaccine, check your state or local health department to find out how and get into the queue. When the offer comes, make an appointment. And keep it.

More blog posts below this one

1/24/2021

Of Interesting Times…and Other Random Thoughts

Insurrection. Impeachment. COVID vaccine snafus.

How is everyone else enjoying 2021, so far? Do you keep remembering that ancient curse: May you live in interesting times?

I was mulling the curse when I remembered a line from the movie, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Pure fantasy, but fun. Set in the early days of the 20th Century the hero, played by an aging Sean Connery, is warned by a much younger man that the British Empire is in peril. Connery says, “You're too young to know this, but the empire is always in some sort of peril.”

As a nation—as a species, for crying out loud—we face a host of vexing problems whose solutions are complex as they are elusive. We’ve always been in some sort of peril. We got past those times. Can we do it again?

Baseball’s Hank Aaron died this week. He was great player, a quietly effective civil rights advocate and, from what I read, a Hall-of-Fame human being. I couldn’t help thinking of three less-famous people taken by COVID—people who lived on the same block I do. Not to mention the two million others I’ve never met. John Donne, a contemporary of Shakespeare, said it best when he wrote that the death of anyone…

…diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

On a less-somber note, Chapter 2 of my flash novel, Lost in Pittsburgh, will go up in a week or so. In the meantime, you can read Chapter 1 now. (Should take only about five minutes of your time. Maybe less.) In that chapter you’ll meet Augie Olszewski, a cynic in late middle age who’d been meandering through life. The meandering—that’s going to change for Augie and the people around him, in ways they can’t imagine.

More blog posts below this one

Read flash novel

Read Lost in PIttsburgh

1/17/2021

Submitted for Your Approval:

Chapter One of a New Flash Novel

I hope you’ll check out the first chapter of my “flash novel,” Lost in Pittsburgh.

Chapter One introduces Augie Olszewski, a cynic in late middle age who’d been meandering through life. The meandering—that’s going to change for Augie in ways they can’t imagine.

Another observation…In Chapter One Augie has a confrontation of sorts with a cop. At first, Augie plays it for laughs and the policeman is patient. I wrote that section a few years before police violence against people of color was the issue it rightfully has become (and should have been a long time ago). It didn’t occur to me then, but now—with all that has happened since, and on the eve of Martin Luther King Day—I see the scene as a sort of study in White privilege.

In Chapter Two, which probably will go up in a couple of weeks, we meet Nina Frey. She’s Augie’s significant other, a former nun who now is a successful investment manager.

I hope you like this first chapter and those to come. As always, anyone who’s requested it will receive an email notice for this and all new content on the website as it’s added. If you’d like to join that email list, (and I hope you do), you can let me know here.

More blog posts below this one

1/11/2021

At a Loss for Words?

Maybe 50 years from now a brilliant PhD candidate will find words, (lots of words, if it’s a dissertation), to explain what happened at the Capitol last week.

There probably will be a long chapter or two about what we as a people did after that.

The usual pundit suspects of all political stripes have busily put forth their own solutions. Most require other people to come to their senses. Change their beliefs. Think differently.

I can’t help reflect back on a couple of personal experiences. In one, a self-improvement course instructor often posed a question: Who can you change? The answer, of course, is no one but yourself.

How to change? A clergyman once suggested praying for a person I strongly disliked. Thoughts lead to action, and it’s hard to work against someone on whose behalf you’ve petitioned The Almighty. For those who don’t pray, consider sending positive energy that person’s way. Same principle.

None of this is to excuse violence, hatred or prejudice.

But it is to suggest that fixing the mess we're in begins with trying to figure out where those with whom we disagree are coming from. Not so much to be understood as to understand.

PS: The next fiction post will be an experiment, of sorts. Not a short story, but the first chapter of a flash novel—10,000 words or so, with no chapter longer than 1,000 words. Free to read, as always. If you’ve already asked for notification of new content, you’ll automatically get an email when I post. If you haven’t asked for notification, you can check out the site any time, or sign up for an alert here.

More blog posts below this one

12/30/2020

Blogger Courageously Refuses to Follow Year-End Pattern

One of my holiday-related irritations is the tendency of TV, radio, newspapers and bloggers to basically take the week off by recycling their old stuff. Think headlines like “Best of,” “Year in Review,” and on and on.

That’s certainly something I could do on this blog. For instance, I could write about three of my favorite stories on 2020. Something like:

Babysitting Michael. A pair of aging hippies demonstrate non-violent confrontation for their young grandson. Remember Chicago in '68? Perfect for boomers who lived through the sixties, and non-boomers who wish they had. If the story had background music, it would be the Beatles’ “When I’m 64.” But in a minor key.

The English-Only Rule. Set in Detroit during the Depression, the daughter of Polish immigrants comes of age. Like “Babysitting Michael,” this narrative is wistful and even funny in places. While the ending here is sad, I happen to think it’s fairly positive. See if you agree.

Raptured. A treat for your inner-cynic. Getting fired in this workplace occurs at the end of the day. By morning, all evidence one ever worked there will have been erased. Tragedy? Maybe not in this case.

See how easy it is to take what’s already exists and re-purpose it for an end-of-year blog?

I also could ask readers to write and tell me about their favorite stories on this site. A post consisting mostly of their comments would allow me to take yet another week off.

But that’s not something I’d ever stoop to. No way.

Happy New Year, everyone! And please read responsibly.

More blog posts below this one

12/20/2020

About the story “Epiphany”

Spoiler alert: This blog is full of details about “Epiphany.”

In Christian tradition, three astrologers came to Bethlehem in search of the Christ child. The story many of us are familiar with is short on details, so I filled in a few.

As a believer, I struggled with this piece. I constantly second-guessed myself, wondering if what I’d written was consistent with that I believe.

For instance, the main character is a cynic, a con-artist who uses astrology to separate the gullible from their money. Is that okay?

I think so. Nothing in the official chronicle suggests any of the magi had fewer flaws than the rest of us. More important, in the end, the main character makes three choices, choosing rightly each time. First, setting personal risk aside, he concocts a plan to save the infant Jesus from death at the hands of King Herod. Second, he give up his con and opens a legitimate business in a backwater where his family will be safe, should the king seek vengeance.

But that plan has unforeseen consequences, leading to choice #3. Herod, still unable to identify the specific infant he considers a threat to his throne, kills every boy in Bethlehem under the age of two. Feeling responsible for that atrocity, the main character considers suicide. He’s about to hang himself. But—choice #3—he remembers his duty to be a father to his own son, and decides to live.

I wrestled with the conclusion more than any part of the story. As the son comes of age, a reader familiar with Christian tradition understands something the main character doesn’t. His son is Judas, Christ’s betrayer.

The man who saved Jesus fathers the man who gave him up. I suppose you could read that—or even the whole story—as suggesting individuals have no agency.

But another view—my view—is just the opposite. The story is full of choices. Bad stuff can flow from good decisions; good stuff from bad ones. Who among us knows our place in history?

There’s a saying: People plan and God laughs. The best we can do is make a good choice in the moment.

Happy holidays, everyone. Stay safe.

More blog posts below this one

12/15/2020

There's Tech...and Then There's Tech

So, my phone died and I went without it for a week.

Don’t worry. This will not be yet more blah-blah about rediscovering the joys of silence, the simple pleasure of time to reflect, or living in the real. (Not even sure why a phone would necessarily be an impediment to those things. But, hey, that’s just me.)

My phone problem did get me to thinking about technology and the way we adapt. Two of my grandparents lived from the era of the horse-and buggy into Space Age—the kind of change that could’ve been be

wildering. But as far as I can tell, none of that set their heads to spinning.

Then I started to think about myself. (Funny how that happens.) When I was born, writers like me smithed words on a typewriter. Revision is the key to good writing. But in those days, if you wanted to revise much, you started over with a blank sheet of paper. Time-consuming, not to angst-inducing when a deadline loomed.

Then came word processors. Giant machines whose commands you had to memorize to get what you wanted. But once you did that, revision was a dream. Eventually, desktop computers and software made the job even easier and the finished produce better than it otherwise would have been.

On the other hand, my own parents never did quite figure out how to use the internet and rarely removed their cell phones from a drawer. They got all the information they thought they needed from TV and newspapers. By that time they didn’t travel much, so a mobile phone had little to offer over a landline.

Some folks like new tech just because it’s bright and shiny. That’s fine. But the rest of us get interested only about stuff that actually improves our lives.

More blog posts below this one

11/30/2020

Cliché of the Year: A [Fill in the Blank] Like No Other?

Notice how often the phrase like no other creeps into news reports and conversations? A public health crisis like no other. A divisive political climate like no other. An economy like no other.

Like no other is rapidly acquiring the status of a cliché.

To be sure, clichés achieve their status because there’s a good deal of truth to them. Most of us know at least one person struck by COVID. Partisan politics have divided families and ended friendships. Economic hard times threaten immediate calamity for some, even as it exacerbates the chasm between the richest and poorest Americans.

But is this really a time like no other?

Where pandemics are concerned, early in the Twentieth Century the Spanish flu took countless lives and disrupted whole societies. Political divisiveness? During the American Civil War, family members took up arms against each other. Meanwhile, the Great Depression remains a benchmark for economic catastrophe.

So why do we persist in describing our time as like no other? Probably because what most of us know about other horrible events comes from history books, rather than experience.

To cite another cliché, this time, it’s personal.

More blog posts below this one

11/24/2020

Thanksgiving, Robinson Crusoe, and a Glass Half-Full?

When I started this blog, I promised myself not to write about the usual stuff around holidays. Well, this Thanksgiving I’m going rogue.

2020 has been the most difficult year many of us have lived through. Hopefully, the toughest any of us will ever experience.

Remember Robinson Crusoe? Shipwrecked and alone on an island, he made a list of “evil” and “good” things—things for which he was thankful. It begins:

Evil: I am cast upon a horrible, desolate island, void of all hope of recovery.

Good: But I am alive; and not drowned, as all my ship’s company were.

Evil: I am singled out and separated, as it were, from all the world, to be miserable.

Good: But I am singled out, too, from all the ship’s crew, to be spared from death…

A glass-half-full kinda guy, this Crusoe.

Our individual lists will vary. But broadly speaking, here’s one way to look at where we stand today. (Crusoe’s “Evil” is a freighted word in modern English, so let’s rename that category “bad.” )

Bad: We’re in the midst of a pandemic that has caused more death and suffering than any of us could have imagined. It’s unsafe to visit in person with loved ones outside our own household, a particular hardship during the holidays.

Good: But we’re told three effective vaccines are on the way. In the meantime, masks plus distancing plus hygiene can help slow COVID’s spread. Podding can be a mixed bag, but in many cases it’s brought us closer to each other. And many now have a better appreciation for workers we may have taken for granted. Health-care folks, for sure. But also those who stock and deliver groceries, postal workers, people who bring packages to our doorstep. (An incomplete summary, but you get the idea.)

Bad: Politically, we’re as deeply divided as at any time since the Civil War. Friends are no longer friends, and some family members no longer speak to each other.

Good: But voter participation reached new highs in November. More Americans than ever understand that policy and the people who implement it matter to them, personally. The twists and turns of the post-election season have been a giant civics lesson for many of us.

Bad: Job losses, foreclosures, and business closings in a time of pandemic—economically, many are suffering through no fault of their own.

Good: But maybe—just maybe—more of us have a better understanding of the gaps in “safety net” programs and the ever-widening chasm between the obscenely rich and everyone else. Maybe—again, just maybe—the experience will lead to better policy all around.

This list, of course, is just the tip of the iceberg.

Readers: What do you think? Drop me a line.

In the meantime, have a great holiday! And stay safe.

More blog posts below this one

11/16/2020

Public Broadcasting: Keeping “Viewers Like You”

I was thinking about a writing a short story in which public broadcasting would be an element when I received a fund-raising email from the local PBS affiliate: Philos + Anthropos. Show us some love.

I smiled. Who else would lead with Greek words that happen to be the roots of philanthropy? I also was a little flattered the sender thought I was smart enough to see how clever they were.

But a moment later, I realized this was the problem with public broadcasting in 2020. The organization’s head tends to be stuck in a past when it often was the sole source of quality drama, documentaries and mindful children’s programming.

That near-monopoly ended with the dawn of cable TV more than forty years ago. In recent years, streaming services—which charge a user fee but have no interruption for commercials or fund-raising—have made for fierce competition.

So why do people like me continue to support public television? In my case, not because I’m smarter than everyone else. (Or even anyone else.)

It’s because I like some of the programs, many of which can be streamed. I think of my PBS contribution the way I think about the monthly fee for a service like Netflix. And there’s a dollop of nostalgia for the days when PBS really was unique.

For all that, organizations that fail to change with the times tend shrivel up and blow away. So what’s PBS to do? I hope they keep some of the shows I watch and the kid fare. But it seems to me there’s a crying need for expanded, objective news.

Sure, on the national level, there are three big cable news networks. But each deliberately puts a right or left spin on the news. I rarely watch.

Local TV news too often consists of a reporter shoving a microphone into the face of crime or disaster victims to ask how they feel. And, given consolidation within the industry, conglomerate owners often dictate a slant on much of the rest.

There are big obstacles to beefing up local and national news coverage, of course. Mostly money. Yeah, lots of money.

But expanded, straightforward new coverage is also an opportunity for PBS, if it wants to keep “viewers like you.” And me.

More blog posts below this one