The Narthex

In 2014, I was in discussion with the principal of St. Joseph Academy about my teaching a finance course there. When I happened to mention my brother owned and operated a successful gold mine, that led to an eager invitation for a Power Point presentation at the school. Since Bill…

In Balboa Park, a renewed antique carousel turns round and round, with bobbing horses and the familiar circus décor and music. It has one of the few operational brass-ring games anywhere. I was touring the Park to create an excursion video for the San Diego County Library branch in San…

When I was a kid in the 1950s, a uniformed policeman with white gloves would direct the flow of traffic at busy intersections. Not any more. Now computerized robots do it better. Despite the advances of artificial intelligence by 2001, we humans still had to program unique routines into each…

My 15-year-old Royal Apricot tree died last year. It had borne the nectar of the gods. Taking an axe to its roots, I mourned as if a beloved monarch had passed on. I closed my eyes in memoriam to savor once again the rich harmonics of its flavorful, exotic fruits.…

As I stood in the entry of an Assisted Living dining hall, hoping to join my friend after lunch, I overheard this comment: “She’s no angel. I heard she shacked up with George last night.” The speaker nodded toward another woman two tables over with coiffed hair and Fifth Avenue…

It is the Ides of March. I’m at the San Marcos Cemetery. Its flat headstones, aligned between scraggly trees on acres of fresh-cut green grass, can’t compete with cemeteries back east. Richmond, Virginia, has historic statues 20 feet tall and Romanesque tombs inscribed with inspirational poetry and sculpted battle scenes.…

I’ve lived in my lower class neighborhood since 1973 when I bought a four-bedroom house and rented rooms to other youths hoping to start a commune. California’s Prop 13 keeps my property tax low, whereas new buyers nowadays pay eight times as much. Sometimes it pays to be old. But…

My vegetable garden is a 4 x 10 planter box with gopher-proof screening and a weed-banning cloth. Its soil is enriched with root enzymes and minerals, wriggly worms, and rich humus. I nearly broke my back constructing it, but it was worth the anguish. I’ve got international participation from healthy,…

My dad used to say whenever motives got confusing, "Follow the money trail." The contemporary Church hierarchy now has one thing on its mind and one only: money. If prejudice is the essence of evil, then this hierarchy is evil in its prejudice for cushy retirements, luxury lifestyles, glorious cathedrals,…

Yesterday in the public library I had a challenging conversation with a Protestant evangelical friend who holds the firm belief that the Bible is all she needs to live a holy life (Sola Scriptura). Her private interpretations of Scripture are the result of inward counsel and the Sunday preaching of…

Mother had a collection of vinyl records that I would listen to on a cold wintry day. Some of her vinyl had the interesting RCA Victor trademark label of a Jack Russell Terrier listening to an Edison bell-cylinder wind-up gramophone. The caption underneath read “His Master’s Voice,” with the cute…

After facilitating a Tuesday senior writing group in the San Marcos County Library, I attended a chess club session held in the same conference room. Four game boards were set up on card tables and eight competitors were playing chess across from each other. At the far end a young…

Our local senior center holds a well-attended bingo game once a week. “B-10,” a moderator announces by microphone, and a hundred heads nod to scan their cards. It’s a good money maker for city services while providing a needed social event. Our local parish does the same to provide funding…

It’s been over 50 years since I taught physics and math ― not the most popular subjects, compared to hands-on training in auto mechanics at a vocational trade school in Beacon Hill. My young students were a rambunctious lot, shooting spit balls and flying paper planes when I entered to…

It was 1953 when I found myself at 11 years old tuning into Bishop Fulton J. Sheen’s weekly Tuesday night commentaries on our black and white television. I don’t know how I got motivated to watch him every week, because my parents weren’t into Catholicism. I was raised a Catholic,…