Author Archives: John Swinburn

Until the psychopath in the White House has been removed, the chances of a recovery from the COVID-19 pandemic are slim. His vacillation between one set of false assertions and the next, his tendency toward chaotically churning lies, and his … Continue reading →

Today, my wife and I celebrate our fortieth anniversary. Celebrate may be too strong of a word; a celebration suggests more than a nice dinner at home. Yet that’s the plan. Because of the pestilence. But a nice dinner at … Continue reading →

Ekstrom Noble. Lavender Bridge. Linoleum Price. Stricklin Barber. These people live beneath the dura mater, that outermost meningeal layer that that would protect my brain if my skull chose to abandon its role in that regard. Perhaps “live” is the … Continue reading →

Yesterday, I smoked a brisket, an eleven-plus pound beast that barely fit in the little electric smoker. In days gone by, I would have spent the entire day burning mesquite logs to heat the heavy steel firebox of an offset … Continue reading →

Death steals from us, leaving only shadows and memories. Those fragments of the past are wholly inadequate to replace the vibrancy lost to the endlessness of forever. John Prine died yesterday. I never saw John Prine in concert, but I … Continue reading →

The clock tells me it is just after seven o’clock on a Saturday morning. My brain tells me the time is much, much, much later than that. My brain tells me time no longer matters, because it’s too late. Too … Continue reading →

Last night’s Zoom videoconference was successful and not-so-successful. I think it was successful in that the participants (including me) enjoyed the opportunity to see and hear the voices of people outside today’s limited personal spheres. We all shared a little … Continue reading →

Yesterday’s post marked number 3200 since I began this blog in August 2012. Almost eight years. A few years ago, I explored some of my earlier blogs in an effort to tally the number of posts I had written at … Continue reading →

I think there’s a continuum of economic commerce that ranges from offering neighbors a needed cup of sugar to unflinchingly demanding a pound of flesh before even a grain of the sweet stuff is released. Maybe the spectrum is even … Continue reading →

To heal. To me, the term conjures a string of related words and a host of related thoughts behind them. Healing leaves scars from wounds. Those wounds and their consequent scars may be physical or emotional or a combination. Whether … Continue reading →