Road Trip 2019

Trains, the metro, and automobile

The trip began at the wrong train station. You’d think that would be hard to do.

The main train station in Montpellier is, and always has been, the gare St. Roch. We were vaguely aware that a new train station was under construction nearby, and indeed, in July, 2018, that new train station did open just south of the city. But we had never given it a thought, until suddenly, we had to. On a Sunday morning in April, as Catherine and I walked into our usual train station, up on the screen that listed all departing trains, our train was not listed. I was pretty sure about the departure date, and with they twenty-four house clock there’s no confusing the time. I looked at our tickets and sure enough, instead of listing ‘Mont St. Roch’, the departure station was listed as ‘Mont Sud’— that new station. Damn. Continue Reading

The BS Moose

In the summer of 1973, I had just finished the fifth grade, we moved to a large brick home on Vernon Terrace. It the nicest home we’d ever lived in that was ours, very similar to our quarters at Fort Belvoir, an Army base on the Potomac River, not far from Mount Vernon. In the… Continue Reading

Why Bother?

I had always wanted an adventurous life….It took a long time to realize that I was the only one who was going to make an adventurous life happen to me. So I did the things I wanted to do, and wrote about them, books and magazine stories. Richard Bach I’m going to write something that… Continue Reading

Nooner

His hand pushed the small of her back, bringing her hips, legs, bringing all of her, closer to his face, his mouth, his lips. She leaned back against the headboard, held his other hand, her fingers intertwined with his. The next moment she pressed their hands onto her breast, and squeezed them both together. Then… Continue Reading

Sans frontières

“The more primitive a man is, the better he believes himself to be…Doubt and tolerance are the characteristics of civilised man.” — Marill to Kern, in Prague East Berlin In January, 1984, one of the few places you could cross into East Berlin was at the Friedrichstrasse station, a transfer point for the U– and… Continue Reading

Debugger

Dad – below is the article I was telling you about. I submitted it to Wired, The New Yorker, Harper’s, The Paris Review, Granta, and a couple of computer industry publications that you’ve never heard of. No one wanted it. The reasons for rejection were varied: too long, incoherent, poorly written, lacking in pictures, and… Continue Reading