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Author Archives: drice

Hunger Games

  Meredy and I travelled to Toronto over the Thanksgiving holiday (where they had celebrated Txgiving about 6 weeks earlier) to have a visit with her sweet Mom. Joanie is 91 and is happiest in her own home, so we tend to just go with her agenda, which included watching the finals of Dancing With … Continue reading »

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Brothers

  The calls came late in the evening and very early morning An old friend gone, and then another Half a continent apart Joined only by memories Echoes of music and laughter Terry, my first friend in second grade Holding hands in the playground Exploring the mysteries of WLA on bikes; Bill singing folk tunes … Continue reading »

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Somehow it has all come down to this

Somehow it has all come down to this Long dog walks in the mornings The garden in early light Memories that rise and fall like June fog along the coast A finch at the feeder, now two An unknown rustling in the nearby grass Earth running through fingers as I engage the hopeful art of … Continue reading »

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Hit Parade

The year was 1957 and I was new to St. Monica’s. Our move from WLA to a nicer house in Santa Monica, where I could abandon the service porch bed I had known for 8 years and actually have a room of my own, was bittersweet. I had to start a new school without Terry, … Continue reading »

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The Pace of Things

Swift things are beautiful: A dog along the surf, A growing child (all too) Springtime, in its budding and flowering And sudden storms, And childhood (did I say childhood?), And a year in my life these years. Slow things are beautiful: Sunday mornings Long morning walks, Eventual happiness and self-acceptance, The way that the heart … Continue reading »

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The Joy of Cooking

      Cooking existed as a mystery to me until I was fully an adult. As a growing boy, I was never asked, nor did I show the mildest interest in learning to cook. As far as I knew, my father did not cook either(nor did any uncle or grandfather)  and the lot of … Continue reading »

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Playing it forward

  My parents were immigrants. They landed on Ellis Island without an invitation. Everyone lived together in a boarding house in Detroit. After my folks met and married, we all moved together, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents, to the same building in West LA., where I spent my first five years. I slept in the … Continue reading »

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Shotgun

Pat had a VW. Tim had a cool, red, ’57 Chevy convertible. McGee had a corvette. Thom, a flaming orange ’57 Chevy. I had a choice between my mother’s pink ’57 Olds or my Dad’s black ‘60 Cadillac. So I mostly rode with friends. Now the Caddy was sweet in its way. It had those … Continue reading »

Categories: Fragments | 2 Comments

Dreams

It bothers me that I cannot fully recall my dreams. While I often awake with a fragment or two of where I have been, the whole of it is quickly lost. Amazing moments, tragic moments, people who are long gone, others who have no relationship to each other in my other life frolic and interact … Continue reading »

Categories: Fragments | 2 Comments

Tunes

As I move about the garden, about the house, about my various chores, I often sing to myself. I am not one of those who you will catch at a stoplight singing to the radio…at least not often. It is more like I wake up in the morning with some tune in my head and … Continue reading »

Categories: Musings | 3 Comments