A Very Rough Draft of Jim Harstad’s Memoir, ON HE RODE — Chapter Forty-Nine

It’s kind of amazing how fast I start feeling normal by starting my day in a neighborhood among normal people who prepare to go normal places and do normal things. And how good and normal “normal” can feel. Do Kerouac and Kesey feel normal? Would they feel normal tooling around Boston behind the wheel of…

A Very Rough Draft of Jim Harstad’s Memoir, ON HE RODE — Chapter Forty-Eight

ON HE RODE — Chapter Forty-Eight In the meantime I’ll take advantage of what must be the most comfortable seating accommodation anywhere, the first five miles of riding any Greyhound or Trailways cross-country hauler. It never fails, ever. The first thing I sit down I can’t believe how anatomically perfect this wonderful combination of lounge…

OPHTHALMOLOGICAL

We know about sparkling eyes, dancing eyes, laughing eyes, and eyes the windows, mirrors, portals to the soul, But what about tiny soul creatures (living secretly) within each dark (and private) eye? My great-aunt Helen had a voice like that, (a voice-within-a-voice), a Sarah Vaughn voice, a Vaughn Monroe voice. Eyes like that, multidimensional eyes,…

SK(wat)?

Two isolated capitals, initials, abbreviations, codes, symbols — perhaps a prestige logo? Or complete and utter nonsense? Or maybe the beginning of a word or phrase, the remainders of which got lost along the way from conception to realization, still seeking completion? Or complete erasure? Letters skipped, skimped, skimmed, skinned? Wait! I hear it forming…

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