In March of 2014, I recorded my eulogy to my mother, Linda Joiner White. I planned to create a slideshow to accompany those words and to have that slideshow ready for her birthday (May 7th) and Mother’s Day (May 11th) of the same year. As those dates approached, I felt less and less ready and realized I needed some more distance from her death before I could complete the project with a clear head and clear eyes.

A year later, the slideshow is ready and I will let it now speak for itself.


View the Prezi here and enjoy the pictures at your own pace.

Read the post I wrote last year after Mom and Cancer declared a truce.

Support me as I continue the fight against cancer started by mom, dad, grandma, and countless others.

There are no flowers allowed in the Oncology Wing!!!

There are no flowers allowed in the Oncology Wing!!!

Mom and ovarian cancer officially signed a truce last night after cancer realized that it would never be able to take away her strength, tenacity, spirit, nor will to fight. The terms of the truce were one mortal coil in exchange for eternal life. It was a deal definitely favoring mom. (more…)

Thanks to DigitalArtBerlin, Flickr, and Creative Commons for this one!

Pride to look like Americans

In light of the Supreme Court’s recent legal decisions concerning immigration, I propose the following amendments to a certain tablet held by a giant copper lady:

Give me your properly-documented tired, your poor with necessary forms,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free because they are able to, when asked, show necessary papers to law enforcement professionals.

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore Strike this statement altogether… send these people to Canada. Only the ambitious and educated need apply.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp* beside the golden door.


*’Lamp‘ means “high-powered search light” used to make sure people don’t sneak through the golden door**.

**’Golden Door‘ is a metaphor implying the entryway*** to a place with a growing economy and abundant opportunity. Like India. Or China. Brazil even. Ever thought about going to one of these places instead?

***Passage through golden door does not guarantee prosperity, acceptance, compassion, or tolerance.

This is not how one hopes to meet the neighbor.

But there he is, glaring at me under the porch light, pistol in hand, erasing all the “howdy neighbor” dialogue I’d planned out for our first meeting.

I’d also wanted to tell him I loved the version of “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” he and his wife’s theatre troupe recently put on in a nearby park. I love Shakespeare but that didn’t rise up as the most relevant statement to make when you have a gun pointed your way.

Rather, our conversation when:

“Was that you?”, he asked.

“Yeah. I went to the backyard that way so I wouldn’t trigger the light over my roommates’ window.”

“Well, just remember that you could have died tonight.”

I was living with some friends during the early autumn of 2008, the third residence for me and Fortuna in as many months, during my turbulence and terrible post-divorce summer. That night, I got back around midnight from an evening with friends and decided to go into the backyard to watch the stars, drink a beer, and smoke a cigarette (amazing what habits return when your life appears to fall apart).

Seemed like a pleasant, non-life-threating idea. (more…)

DB Cooper Was Not Here

A recent clear, beautiful sunny Pacific Northwest day found me and Lakshmi scaling a steep ridge in search of DB Cooper and his bundle of cash. Though we didn’t find him (yet), the day was pleasant, the climb (700 feet of elevation over about 700 yards) arduous, and the adventure properly adventurous. While I am known to hike in the woods with the pooch, I am not necessarily known as a treasure hunter.

Why then was I out there?

40 years ago, my Great-Uncle Russ heard from a colleague that, the morning after DB’s daring escape, said colleague, from his front porch, sighted a parachute caught in a tree off on a distant ridge. For 40 years, my uncle plotted, planned, and dreamed of scaling that ridge to finally solve the mystery of what happened to Cooper. I knew almost nothing of the legend until earlier this year when my uncle mentioned, almost in passing, that he knew the final resting place of DB Cooper. My great-aunt listened quietly the whole time and managed to contain her eye-rolling to only a few instances.

My insatiable curiosity led me down a wormhole after that first conversation. After 40 years of dreaming, Russ finally found someone who said, “A parachute in a tree seen from over a mile away? That’s the proof? Cool, let’s do it!”.  (more…)

A New Day Dawns in NYC

Certainty in Uncertain Times

Parks clear. Cleanup begins. Leaderless movement now a placeless movement. Mixed messages. Clear focus. Regroup. Recommit. Refocus. Violent here. Nonviolent there. Streaming video captured with smartphones of confrontation reminiscent of peaceful resistance images from the pre-YouTube past. Pepper spraying grannies and pregnant women. Molotov cocktails. Rumors of anarchists building weapons. Crowds shut down a port. Hygiene issues. Drugs. Fights. Unclear focus. Clear messages. Hundreds of thousands of dollars in park maintenance and police overtime.

Dismantle the camps while the campers sleep. Worked for George Washington in Trenton. Works now.

Now is the winter of our discontent.

No camps to occupy… good news for the anti-OWS folks, bad news for the pro-OWS folks.

But if your enemy is not in one place, they can be anywhere.

Bad news for the anti-OWS folks, good news for the pro-OWS camp. (more…)

Onward and upward

I wrote a quote on the inside cover of a journal spanning April 26, 2002 to January 12th, 2004. The quote, captured before I started journaling, accurately sums up the content that eventually followed:

To become acquainted with yourself is a terrible shock (Carl Jung)

This journal covers the summer leading up to my marriage. It covers the death of my father a month after tying the knot. It covers a time of doubt: for myself, my marriage, my life. It covers my birthday in 2003-2004 during a trip to Mexico when I rediscovered the ability to relax… after almost 18 months of trying.

Basically, it covers my dropkick into adulthood.

I reread this journal yesterday and reacquainted myself with myself, clearly seeing the incompleteness of my search for self during those years. The profundity of the Jung quote also struck me as doubly true. Here is a record of my search from almost ten years ago when that search was very present and active, now viewed through the lens of those intervening years, a perspective full of insight and sympathy for that past, incomplete me. (more…)