I was put in mind of my friend Elgin this morning when I heard the unmistakable sound of an old Volkswagen Beetle going by. Elgin and I met in 1966, my junior year of high school. He was a massive six-three, a formidable football player, grew up in wealthy family, had his own horse, a new VW Beetle, hunted, drank whiskey, and hung out with other football players and their cheerleader girlfriends.
Posts published in “Essays”
The night before the Russian River Run, Sally Miklose called me from her motel room in Ukiah because her 16-year-old son Jesse wanted to find out how fast I'm planning to run the next day's…
Giant ragweeds bloom in the fields of our river valley after an unusually wet spring, with vast expanses of the bottoms and low ground temporarily abandoned by modern agriculture. Most of the watermelons have succumbed…
So, you are out on the John Muir Trail (JMT) and nature calls. Your first thought: Why doesn't Nature have a 1-800 number. Of course, Mother Nature isn't calling you on the phone. Mother Nature…
At night the band would play paso dobles in the square. When it was time for the tuba solo, the audience became quiet and in the absolute quiet the song of the cuckoo could be…
As a kid during the 50s my favorite movies were sci-fi and monster flicks, mostly black and white budget affairs like Creature from the Black Lagoon, where you could see the zipper up the back…
On an unusually warm July evening for San Francisco, I sit in front of an antique Underwood typewriter in the room where Dashiell Hammett wrote “The Maltese Falcon.” In the former studio at 891 Post…