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Conception

In late May, 1968, literally running from the college where I’d been teaching, running from the local police, and from hosts of other unknown and unnamed demons, I fled to the Highland School for Exceptional Children in rural Paradox, NY, where I reconnected with Mary Pat, a woman I had had a deep, torrid, love relationship with in 1966, who was herself running from her mother’s suicide in Big Sur.

From Paradox we traveled together across this amazing huge country, listening to news of the police riots at the Democratic Party Presidential Nominating Convention in Chicago, concerned for those in the Black liberation struggle, excited and trepidations that revolution was becoming more real by the moment, and eager to find our place in it.  We were desperate and wildly enthusiastic about our union, the revolution, and having a child.  We lived from September 1968, to September 1969, in California, mostly in Sebastopol, in the redwoods, enjoying Mary Pat’s pregnancy, occasionally visiting San Francisco and Berkeley and the cultural/political revolutionary scene there.

I worked part of that year as a maintenance man at the University of California Marine Biology Laboratory in Bodega Bay where I met Jim and Barbara Nolfi, discussed plans for forming a commune, convinced their friends, the Jungian therapists Jane and Jo Wheelwright, to fund our venture, slept out of doors under the redwoods in the mist with our baby Maia, and then drove back across the continent to buy the old Magnum farm in Franklin, Vermont, all 330 acres of it, lock, stock, and barrel, for under $50,000.  We moved onto the farm February 1, 1970.  February Fools Day we called it.

It was an intense experience, that first year and a half, really two years if you consider sugaring seasons and summers as the year markers.  We were highly political in our orientation, but also fundamentally agrarian.  We fancied we were living a post revolutionary life style in pre-revolutionary times.  In hindsight we were a bit of a nativistic movement, desperate, idealistic, and courageously experimental.

In the USA 2022

time and tide

IN THE USA 2022

    In the USA 2022!

    It is January of 2022, in the Biden Covid era. I am on the road again, which I needed badly. Funny how I got here and where I am …

    Racial Awareness

    This important issue (even if “race” is an illusion), demands attention and consideration from all of us.

    Frederick Douglass

    Poems for Palestine by BRT

    Law Stories

    Miscellaneous

    Organizational Affiliations

    “Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much.” — Helen Keller

    Sports Writing

    When the game is afoot, I find the field of sports to be a great source of inspiration and entertainment.

    SPORTS WRITING

      Sports Writing category image.

      The Chief

      Stories of a man of magnificence, a person of power, and character … the Chief.
      https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vulcan_Society

      Coyote in the House

      Coyote strolls into my house
      on a balmy night
      after the rains have ended,
      a night remembered for the sound of crickets
      and coyote’s toenails|
      tap tap tapping on the wooden floor.

      Coyote smells everything,
      old newspapers,
      the knitting,
      the bowl of fruit she finds
      with one paw up on the counter
      when she also notices me,
      having hoped for mice
      or duck pate
      and instead gotten human.

      Then, so as to detain her briefly,
      i slide the door closed,
      holding in her beauty,
      as moonlight breaks through the cloudy night sky,
      a ban on nuclear weapons is announced,
      health care is guaranteed to everyone as a fundamental right,
      palestinians and israelis form one democratic state,
      music appreciation classes are funded and returned to the curricula of public schools,
      and a symphony orchestra of children under twelve
      serenades our congress,
      while coyote walks round my bedroom,
      squatting to pee near the bookcase,
      as i pull a blanket up to my neck
      and fall fast asleep
      trusting in dreams.