Letter from Home | A collection of essays originally written for Flagstaff Live!

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The Age of Brawn

The Age of Brawn

Posted by on Feb 27, 2025

Ever since we discovered the existence of dinosaurs, there’s been a subset of the population, and not just children, whose fascination with them and admiration for them should have warned us, decades ago, of the particular future we find ourselves in now. Brawn is a word not often used in the new vocabulary of our time, yet it is more and more at the root...

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The Right Moment

The Right Moment

Posted by on Jan 16, 2025

This is the story of a deer, a man, a woman, a tree and two funerals. It takes place in Georgia, down near the Florida line, on a hunting plantation that belongs to my father’s brother. It’s no Tara and the house on the land is no Twelve Oaks. It’s a modern house, simple and practical and beautiful in its practicality. It sits on a rise with a view of...

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My Imperfect America; Of losers, winners, and washing machines

My Imperfect America; Of losers, winners, and washing machines

Posted by on Dec 5, 2024

If the ‘50s was not a shining moment in human history, the decade at least landed us with an abundance of game shows. Truth or Consequences, The Price Is Right, Queen for a Day, and a few years later, Let’s Make a Deal. These were the four that played at our house, and I considered it daytime TV at its finest. How I became a game show aficionado puzzled me...

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Mess

Mess

Posted by on Oct 24, 2024

The story goes that when my father’s parents divorced when he was eight, the reason given was not infidelity, moral lassitude, or drunkenness, but messiness. Theirs was an example of the inability of two people to share a life when one was messy and one was neat. There are many apocryphal stories in my family and this may be one of them, but I suspect...

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Way Stations Remembered; One traveler’s tollbooth fandom

Way Stations Remembered; One traveler’s tollbooth fandom

Posted by on Sep 12, 2024

Every summer I make a pilgrimage to New England where I did some of my growing up. In a rented car I drive the familiar roads of Massachusetts and Maine, reacquainting myself with humidity and the color green. The farther north I go the fewer people there are, and along the coast the air cools and becomes salty. I don’t pull off the highway to find a bowl...

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