Author Archives: John Swinburn

July 12, 2017 We left the house around 8:15 a.m., bound first to Hot Springs to visit a friend in the hospital.  When we arrived, she was talking with a surgeon; when we opened the door to her room, he … Continue reading →

Today’s adventures involved a drive from Manhattan to Abilene, Kansas, a round-trip train ride in open cars, lunch in a diner adjacent to the train tracks, a visit to the Eisenhower museum, homestead, and library, a drive from Abilene to … Continue reading →

We went to Tulsa. I hated the traffic. We spent the night. We left. We drove through parts of Oklahoma and Kansas. I have decided parts of Kansas are beautiful; parts of the state are emotionally draining, they are so … Continue reading →

You would think a mechanic, asked to check the road-worthiness of a vehicle in advance of a trip, would consider all major systems of a vehicle. At least I would have that expectation. Among the “systems” I would expect the … Continue reading →

I am alive and uninjured. It could have ended up differently. A blow-out at 60 miles per hour in a construction zone with only one lane of traffic is no fun. A two-hour wait for assistance adds insult to injury. … Continue reading →

There’s nothing to be done. You are at the mercy of the universe. That may seem overwhelming, but it’s not. Not when you consider that you are the universe. You are decency and compassion. You are understanding and appreciation. You … Continue reading →

Today is my wife’s birthday. Normally, we’d go out to dinner or I’d prepare a special dinner at home. She asked me for scallops. But then our neighbors invited us out to lunch, followed by a few hours touring Lake … Continue reading →

I read an obituary this morning. A fifteen-year-old girl in Bedford, Texas committed suicide by hanging herself. Bullying took its toll on her.  Whoever wrote the obituary put the blame squarely on the bully(ies); I hope those responsible read it. … Continue reading →

Another morning, just like so many mornings past. This early part of the day is a homonym for bereavement. A drab sky, muted green leaves, the muddy brown bark of trees sliding into black where the dim light of morning … Continue reading →

Last night’s HSV Open Mic Night had the largest attendance, by far, of any held to date: 152 people in the audience. Last night’s performances were eclectic. Banjo, acoustic guitar, piano, electric guitar, viola, violin, conga, bongos, trombone, spoken word … Continue reading →

I bounce from project to project, finishing the occasional endeavor if it’s especially short and requires little patience. It occurs to me that, if I were able to transfer the energy expended in one hundred unfinished projects into just a … Continue reading →