Still Life. A Poem

Still Life by Aaron Schultz I want a switch, a giant circuit breaker Grab handle with both hands, throw it up Break the circuit, break the seizure Stop the pain, stop the shock Restart the heart, keep my daughter from this brutal callousness called normal This is not the world I’ve worked to create This is not the world I’ve…

Muddy Face and Hands

Since it’s Portland, my daughter and I played in the park on a rainy day. Of course, she wanted to go on the slide and pick up chunks of mud to eat. I kept redirecting her to the mud puddles so she could jump jump splash splash instead. Until parenting, I thought about mess as something to be avoided, unless…

Not Enough Whiskey. Pyre for Dog.

Not Enough Whiskey. Funeral Pyre.   July 4th, 2016. 4 AM two days ago, Winter, my dog, died. After coming home and passing out for a few hours, Jennifer and I sat in the living room. Simultaneously, we look at each other and say, “I can’t be here.” I call our favorite cabins on the Oregon coast, cabins we have…

In 1966 MLK said, "Of all the forms of inequity, injustice in healthcare is the most shocking and inhumane."

The Injustice of American Healthcare

Objects Are More Important Than People “Of all the form of inequity, injustice in healthcare is the most shocking and inhumane,” Martin Luther King said 50 years ago. Healthcare is not a privilege. It is a right. Speak up. Don’t be a bystander. Despite spending the most per-capita on healthcare, the USA shows the lowest life expectancy and highest infant…

Snowboarding Dawn Patrol

Trail Report. Dawn Patrol. Teton Pass. Wyoming. The ritual starts the night before by packing your pack, which if you’ve had a good winter is packed already and just needs replenishment. Water. Powerbar. Apple. Chocolate. Layers. Headlamp. First aid kit. Lighter. Multi-tool. Eyewear. Avalanche kit: probe, shovel, beacon, inclinometer. Optional small thermos for coffee on the summit. Keep pack light,…

Trail Report-Being Prey I

Being Prey. Mile Twenty-Four. Lightening jukes and strikes far down the canyon, moving away, out over the valley. I hike through a light rain, blowback from the hot day. My legs and feet are numb and heavy. I am one mile from the Spanish Peaks trailhead—one mile from the truck, flip-flops, and beer—and fifteen minutes from absolute darkness. I am…