Essays

The quick and the dead

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I was 16 years old when my father asked me if I wanted to be a hero. The year was 1999, ’round about late April, and Dad...

In defense of burning books and abalone

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Some books should be burned. At least one book should be burned. That book should be Ulysses. THE WRONG MOLLUSK I was at the Kapi’olani Farmers...

A portrait of the small town as a young man

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I turned off my phone and put it in my desk. I quit Facebook, and closed my email accounts. I deleted my LinkedIn profile,...

The hidden path

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I called a good friend heartless this year. Who have I become? I’ve always prided myself on being a rational, reasonable person. I don’t offend...

‘Cold or not, God is present’

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I think about the shoes. I think about the shoes; 60 of them, lined along the east bank of the Danube River in Budapest, Hungary....

Naked Belief

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My favorite professors were the ones who’d set me up a space heater before I arrived. Even in the early fall months, just as...

A long ugly story

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Sometime in the fall of 1979 I got a phone call from a friend of my older brother. He wanted to know if I...

The bikini

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I remember the first time I felt fat. I was 7 years old, and so excited to spend the day at the pool. I...