A couple of years ago, I sent a note out to friends. Because it still seems generally relevant to my little life, I’ve reproduced it here (thanks to Gutenburg, Eli Whitney, Bill Gates et al for reminding us of the convenience of modular bits). Tonight begins Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement. I’m not Jewish, but of … [more]
Stryking out
13-September-2010 by Leave a Comment
Rush down alleys, stone walls fly past, impact bullet punched deep into fatty liver narrow young man drops gun, dogma, life itself to steal is repurposing, liberating sometimes defensible to kill is squandering everything he had trickles down filthy gutters wasted. We never slowed down.
Beaver Creek
31-August-2010 by Leave a Comment
They don’t roll up the sidewalks at 11 p.m. in Beaver Creek, Yukon, only because there are, in fact, no sidewalks to roll. We hit the border crossing from Alaska’s Glenn Highway at about 8:30, with magic light firing the golden leaves of aspens and the temperature reading about 10 degrees C (50 degrees F). I’d … [more]
Buy me dinner first?
31-August-2010 by Leave a Comment
The first noticeable difference between flying into SeaTac, an airport surrounded by NW waters, and Anchorage is the proximity of deep, green trees to the airport. The next is the profusion of small aircraft on the field, not a known feature of metropolitan airports in CONUS. The first noticeable thing about Anchorage itself is … [more]
Sky liar
15-August-2010 by 4 Comments
The wind was up, rain interspersed with sunshine. One of us was being a gentleman about it, and I’m sad to report it wasn’t me. “I dunno if you want to go up in this,” Justin said politely. “Looks like we’re off for today. I don’t want anyone getting sick.” “I don’t get airsick.” “Well…” … [more]
Binned
12-August-2010 by 1 Comment
Three days after I de-planed at SeaTac and rode home to peel off sticky, faded desert camo for the last time, I was dispatched by my exotically sexy wife to attend to her mother in the mental ward. In Texas. With barely a hug and certainly no kisses under our belts, it seemed early in … [more]
When I used to jog
21-June-2010 by 2 Comments
The last time I remember was along mud-sand walls, buff, sizzling tink-tink-tink not too fast, they can’t shoot for sour batshit, I ran, bowing under the weight boots tight, mags full hands sweated onto parkerized dust “C’mon, Joey!” and he laughed that way like a kid, immortally cheerful, fantasy blue-eyed love doll to the Kurds … [more]
"Jack Lewis takes the overall literary crown with his new book...there’s a lot more to Lewis’s work than what it feels like to ride motorcycles.” — Ultimate Motorcycling
"Insightful and from the heart ... a driven and much recommended look into the mind and conflict of the next generation of war veterans. " — Midwest Book Review (Reviewer's Choice)