Lest They Be Forgotten

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As I prepare to gather with friends later today, I can’t help thinking about past Thanksgivings with those dear to me who have passed on.

I am thankful that I am here to remember them, because the Jewish people say the deceased live on as long as they are remembered. 

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Why We Hate the Media

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I refuse to use the contrived term “fake news.” But a news report I was involved in, which aired last week on a Boston TV station, was unreal. 

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A Boy Named Sue

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The first task God gave Adam was to be the Poet Laureate of Paradise. He was to name the animals of Eden. Adam did a passable job: aardvark and wildebeest, oryx and eland.

It was only after Adam proved himself unworthy of God’s trust that he had to find new employment “by the sweat of his brow.”

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What Do I Want?

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I was awakened before five this morning by a pack of snarling coywolves outside my bedroom window on Cape Cod. It was not a happy sound.  I flipped on the exterior lights and watched a half dozen of these denizens of the night—a type of coyote bigger than German Shepherds—as the howling turned into vicious fighting among themselves. The alpha was solidifying his dominance.

I am that alpha wolf.

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A Tale That Is Told

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My blog post today is a shameless, undisguised supplication for birthday salutations on Tuesday, October 17, when I mark “A Big One.”

Your well-wishes for the occasion may take any form you wish: phone calls, texts, emails, Facebook postings, UPS or FedEx deliveries.

Floral arrangements, gourmet food baskets, and show tickets are always appropriate. No puppies or kittens, please.

All I’m after is adulation.

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Grandma Speaks Through Blue Jays

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In the shortening days of Cape Cod October, the only birds I hear are blue jays and crows. Their screeching adds to the depressing prospect of approaching winter. But the calls of the jays also brings me back to summer days at my grandmother’s house.

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Two in One Day

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I had the rare privilege this week of having both a book and a poem published on the same day. 

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Out of Touch

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My Puerto Rican island of Vieques wears a dark cloak of invisibility. No electricity. No water service. No air flights to and from the island. No ferries run. No Internet or phone communications. No press coverage. No way of knowing if friends and families there are safe. No idea if my house still stands. 

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Obituary for Three Wives

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They said we'd look back on our tears and laugh. They never told us that someday we'd look back on our laughter and cry.

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Tormenta!

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We have a romanticized anticipation in our mind’s eye of how we want things to unfold. But something as simple – or savage – as weather can wrench us back to the real. 

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