A selection of stories I like to tell around a campfire
I had a good life in Pennsylvania. My job was in Philly — a web app programmer working on database interfaces that nobody would ever love but everyone needed. The train commute was long enough to read a book to a good soundtrack — but still short enough that I enjoyed it. I came home around 7pm with enough energy left to have fun. Lancaster was where I lived, and Lancaster was where my people…
When I was 25, I quit my cushy job in Philadelphia. With $120 in my pocket and a banjo tied to my backpack, I set out to work at a wolf sanctuary in New Mexico. The two years I spent in the middle of nowhere, next to Navajo and Zuni land, were a profound influence on my life. All the wolves there were rescued wolves or wolf dog hybrids (and the odd fox or dingo) because people continue to buy them…
Strangely, it never occurred to me, after losing my leg, to feel "Why me?" Perhaps this is my natural existentialism that tends to think every occurrence in life has equal odds. You will either die today or you won't. I'll spend tonight partying with Rihanna or I won't. 50/50 odds. I realize that isn't how probabilities work. I'm well-grounded in statistical mathematics and use large data sets…
The first six weeks in the hospital were largely hallucinations - either from the temporary coma or the morphine, fentanyl, and ketamine I was given to ease the pain. My mind couldn't shake it, and I lived in a completely different world. It veered into reality sometimes, and I would try to communicate. This, I just found, is from my notes at the time. I was trying to tell a story that happened to…
So… thanks to the campaign=natman sharesheet dash&utm medium=customer&utm source=copy link&attribution_id=sl:ebfd96d6-e903-47d8-ae8a-7b5c903b56bf">kindness of friends and strangers , I raised enough to buy myself a wheelchair. Someday I hope insurance in some country will kick in and I’ll have one custom made, but who knows how long that will take. For now, it is time to build my own. First, I…
Remembering New Mexico My last band in the US was a five-piece group called Canteen. We formed almost instantly. A friend called one day asking if I had music for a local public radio fundraiser. The band didn't exist yet, but I said 'sure' anyway. I threw the group together that day with people I had played with before. The idea was simple: we all write our own lyrics about ghosts or aliens in…
There I was, the house exploding behind me, as I held the family dog to comfort it as it cowered in the blasts. What hell was I doing? The scene is New Orleans, 2005. Yep, after Katrina hit. I was 22, and itching for excitement… so when the call went out for volunteers throughout the US, I signed up with the Red Cross. There was a week's worth of first responder training, and then I flew to…
When I'm holding my ukulele, I forget about the wheelchair. When I can sing loud, in an echoing barn, and people are dancing to my music, I forget the pain. I forget nearly everything except my hands, my voice, and the sounds of stomping and laughter. Between songs, an iced panaché kept my voice from going dry. This is life. I'm creating a barn dance that kids and adults enjoy. My mind is here and…
Julie and were about to board the train for Lausanne - the first time on a train in my new electric wheelchair. Julie motioned to the woman next to us, asking for a path through for the wheelchair. The woman ignored her and pushed in front of us. As soon as she entered the train, instead of stepping aside to let me pass, where there was room for ten people, a few large dogs, and a keg (for…
This is a new story, a continuing story, because I’m still figuring out how to write about it. I think it’s why I started writing so many stories from when I could walk without aid. It started in 2022 — I was 39. One morning, I stepped out of bed and collapsed from the pain. There wasn’t any warning, and I had no idea what to do. For the meantime, I bought a cane and enjoyed that while I kept…
One of my best friends in my earlier years had a rule: If either of us feels something is off, the other person should immediately trust them and ask questions later. This was back when we were panhandling for money in Seattle, sleeping outside or on a couch, getting food from dumpsters. Anything could go wrong in a moment. I still follow that principle: Trust your friend’s gut, and always trust…
There are many ways to wake up in a Parisian hospital: birds chirping, medical equipment coughing, and nurses rolling their carts down the hallway. Or, in this case, a completely naked redhead standing by your window, studying the morning fog. I was a few days into recovery from my first hip replacement in 2023, at a physical rehab facility north of Paris. The place had already shown its approach…
For the longest time, since I was a child, I loved tinkering with computers — taking them apart and rebuilding them, then using childish fantasies to make MS-DOS answer me if I asked specific questions. My private choose-your-own-adventure AI assistant. Sort of. I think it was a child’s answer to looking for a computer friend, which I now consider cute. I could have my own “Short Circuit” robot…
You'll often hear that you need an international driver's license to rent a scooter in Taiwan, but this is manifestly untrue, at least as not observed at small scooter-rental stores. Never being one to leave a theory untested, I decided to experience first-hand what driving a scooter in Hualien, Taiwan, felt like. I'll say this right off: today was the first day I have ever driven a scooter.…
Back in my New Mexico home, many friends — fair-haired friends especially — had told me stories about China. They talked of train trips in the 80s, during which they met people who had never seen a white person, and those people spent much of the trip trying to hold their hands and stroke their hair. I figured that I didn't look Chinese (obviously), but I also wasn't blonde. Apparently, however, a…
I was 8. Her name was Ashley, and we were in Sunday School together. That is to say, we attended the same Sunday School class at the same church. There was no sense of 'togetherness' — we never talked or visited or even knew each other's last name. However, it was to attract her attention that I tried to do better than anyone else in all our activities. It was to her I recited my lines in the…
Itaewon, a district of Seoul, is where you can see the foreigners. After three months out in the country towns of northern South Korea, where I was often the only Westerner, it was strange to see such an international assortment of people. Afghans, Turks, Americans, Irish, South Africans, French, Kenyans - you name it. Here, I sat smoking cigarettes and drinking soju out in the street for hours,…
I've always had "bad" habits with insects and snakes. I would constantly catch them as a kid, and handle them, no matter how many times my mother told me not to. Missouri was just redneck enough that you weren't worth your salt unless you could catch a speeding grass snake, that was a simple rite of passage for me. I'd gently say hello and set them down on their way. So, when I moved to New Mexico…
This particular evening, somewhere around 2014 perhaps, we were at the Upslope Brewery, relaxing after long hours of earning some extra cash, when we got the call about the chickens. Coyotes were in the middle of attacking the coop at our shared home in Hygiene, a tiny but well-named town outside Boulder. Multiple chickens were down, and one of the dogs was bitten while fighting them off. Griff,…
It was 2010, and we were somewhere in Western China trying to get to a small town on the Tibetan border. There was no bus, and no taxi would take us there. We had reservations for the night, so we started to get desperate to find a ride. My friend Adrian spoke enough Mandarin to get us into trouble, and we finally found an unlicensed driver to take the three of us there for a reasonable price. I…
Qoui de neuf , people of earth? It's been quite a long time since I've blogged my personal stories. I started a long time ago in a web far, far away, around 2000, when we all used Blogger and some WordPress a bit back then. Over time, my blogging started to be replaced by social media — though, of course, the indie blogger scene never ended. Like my peers, I left it for Myspace, Facebook, and…