As part of our morning commute, Flash Lely and I take a daily stroll into Barking Dog Roasters on Sonoma Highway. We order coffee, are dispensed paper to-go cups and proceed to the self-serve pump pots. Without fail, whether he attempts to fill his cup with the house blend or the French roast, Lely selects the coffee dispenser that has just run out. He sighs, I chortle and within a beat, the pot is replaced with a fresh and full one. It should be noted that in the hustle-bustle that is mornings at Barking Dog (or the Darkling Bog, as we say, lending the café the sheen of the Shire), the staff is so diligent, so expert, that the dispensers are seldom left empty for more than a millisecond. Except when Flash is at the pump. Continue reading “Camus at the Cafe Counter”
In my capacity as Media Czar (a title management still refuses to bestow upon me, despite my persistent threats to grow a beard, don a chest full of medals and accept the eventual overrun of my empire by communists), I make it a daily task to have at least one “aha” moment as regards my work.
This seldom happens. Instead, I have “ha” moments wherein the powers of the universe laugh at my attempts at attaining any sort of insight beyond realizing, say, my sideburns are two different lengths. What I’ve been seeking is a “satori,” the Buddhist term alternately translated as “understanding” and a “quick kick in the eye.” I prefer the latter term since it often takes some measure of extreme experience for me to notice anything (like when my own Jeep ran me over in a freak parking accident and I finally learned the power of “curbing”). Continue reading “Satori in Sonoma”
Cover teasers, those pithy little entreaties above the fold on a newspaper intended to send one ripping through its pages, are something of a parlor game in our newsroom. As one can expect from a roomful of scribes in various shades of jade, the best teasers are unprintable. Needless to say, these ribald reductions never make corners of this publication but an inordinate amount of puns do, and so it was that we went about plugging the upcoming Sunnys Community Awards (astute readers will note that none of the below made the cover). Continue reading “Cover Teaser: Sunnys Also Rise”
I’d like to say I’m an all-natural, one-hundred percent organic, fairly traded, shade-grown and completely recyclable human being – but I’m not. With the amount of industrial residue surely circulating in my system I’m notch above a cyborg. And since I’ve turned the executive functions of my life over to the handheld device that lives in my coat pocket, the transformation continues. I’m frightened only when I look in the mirror and tiny ones and zeroes rain before my eyes.
I expected that by the beginning of this millennium I’d have a bionic brain fueled by psycho-pharmaceuticals and a shiny new liver freshly transplanted from the bio-farm. Though these notions have gone the way of the jetpack, robot sidekick and digital dodo, I’m satisfied that the future is so bright I have to wear ultraviolet ray-repelling fashion goggles (and not just because the ozone layer and the icebergs are on a fast pass to the Grey Havens). I’ve convinced myself that I can stay human and not entirely (d)evolve into a mandroid by ingesting only the finest organic, non-GMO foodstuffs available within a 100-mile radius. I am now forbidden to treat hangovers with fast-food French fries. Continue reading “GMWoes”