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Asking After My Own Light

The Morning After

This head so gently aches; its bloodshot blur is the morning vision. “Higher” consciousness always takes its toll. Well, I did yoga twice yesterday and only had five scoops of Bob’s Homemade last night. Am I healthy because I didn’t get the flu last week?

Three Stories

It was a dismally beautiful afternoon. In fact, it was so beautiful that Samantha wondered if it would ever end. The trees were so green, the light green that only early spring can offer.

Another Appetite

Little Rebecca has inherited her mother’s desire to explore foreign places. She can sit in the car happily singing, sleeping or just watching the world go by for ten hours as long as she is moving on to new people and places. Some morning she’ll run to the car demanding to “go, go, go someplace.”

Small Is Beautiful

Many writers, dazzled by the growth in size and power of national governments and corporate enterprises, make the mistake of calling for a single, global organ to coordinate human affairs. Their idea is to free industry from national shackles and supercharge the market by way of central organization.

Housing

From The Bottom Up

Contemporary builders have a set procedure for doing business. It may prove expedient and trustworthy to some and expensive and cumbersome to others. Generally it reflects the way in which we run our society in a caste system: white collar – blue collar.

Eat Your Heart Out

My friend, Arnold, is having a fight with the stewardess. “I will make you into salami!” he is screaming. I’m making believe I don’t know Arnold. I bury my face in a magazine, “Modern Maturity,” a few seats back from his. We are flying Astral Coach to Venus.

Channel One

We all dream. Research begun in the 1950s shows that all people dream — even people who remember no dreams. “Non-dreamers” will recall dreams if they are awakened during periods of rapid eye movement (REM). These occur during periods of light sleep when the eyeballs move rapidly back and forth under closed lids, and the brain is very active. We usually have three or four REM periods a night.

Little Soapy And Big Jim

We’re sailin up the Limpopo River from Fool’s Tide to Pope’s Eye. In some places we can reach out and touch the dried old balls of priests hanging from the trees way out over the river.

The Wanderer

I was walking with a friend a few nights ago, sharing tales of lusty, high adventure drawn from a mid-winter’s odyssey to Boston, when Joe offered a remarkable insight: “You know, it’s the settled man who keeps the wanderer on the road.”