dispatchesfromkansas

     February is not a month given to surprises. It knows its pitiable place in the pantheon of the Roman calendar—named not for a god but a ritual—knows that it was a late inclusion to fill the interminable blank space the Romans left for winter, knows it was short-changed on days, and knows, too, … More A month of surprises

     What I remember, what comes to me most strongly now in the opening stages of a winter that leaves me chilled to the bone, was the heat. It radiated off the pavement of downtown Courtland like a living thing bent on incinerating the throngs of people lining the streets and charring the cars … More Halfway from then to there

     The year bleeds away to its inevitable conclusion. Outside frost and cold and a smattering of clouds but still only the faintest, nearly imperceptible luminance in the east. I glance through the blinds to see if the trashcan is still upright or dumped and its innards scattered to the four corners of northeast … More Transition into new

     One of the joys of being a professional photographer—a term that still gives me the hives whenever anyone says it—is the constant learning required to master the craft. This is remarkable considering that school was 12 years of unremitting torture, other than for 6th grade when I sat next to a pretty blonde … More Seasons greetings from Oz

     The gray-haired man in the hospital bed looked more dead than alive but I discerned a slight twinkle in his eye as he studied the photo I’d given him. It was him in a better day, and not long past, when he stood in a faux-saloon in a little town in northeastern Kansas … More Remember this

     Lori said, someday this house isn’t going to work for us, and I said, you’re right. In my mind I saw us as senile and white-haired, bent and frail and leaning on solid oaken canes, faces like dried prunes.       What are we going to do about that? she asked.     … More This old house

     Above all, keep your spirits up, I told myself. Look on the bright side.      Okay, then, here’s a bright spot in an otherwise bleak day: It had taken a ridiculously long time to position myself on the edge of the examination table, and nobody was there to witness it. Nor had … More Day after day after day

     When my father told me he’d had a nasty bout of shingles, that it was the most excruciating pain he’d ever experienced, I had no idea what he was talking about. The word brought to mind roofing tiles, or, as I sometimes see in deep woods on hot muggy mornings, bright orange clusters … More World of hurt