Posts by Keith Howard
Beverly Cleary created a world where goals were set, plans were made and achievements were accomplished. I lived in my own world, where boredom loomed around every corner and had to be destroyed by any means necessary, another symptom of wickedness.
Keith Howard’s just sent out his virtual resume into the ether. Share for a chance to help him manifest his destiny, and earn yourself some cookies, and a sonnet.
Donald Trump has done a lot of dumb things, a lot of crass things, a lot of cruel things and a lot of dishonest things. Still, despite cries from my liberal friends, he is not a tyrant-in-training (although that may be his fantasy), nor is he wreaking vengeance against his enemies. I don’t think he’s been a good president so far, but he’s not evil. America is not the Wasteland. The universe just reminded me of that. Let me explain.
Readers know I’m not a God guy at all, not real interested in whether the Big Joker in the Sky is paying attention. Still, I pray 50 or 75 times a day, saying the same prayer over and over and over: “Thank you, God.” For today, I’m going to amend that prayer to “Thank you, God, and please help Larissa find a way to want to find a path to sobriety.”
In short, these first memories tend to be snippets, little pieces of pre-story that have randomly stuck to the brain like sawdust to sneakers. Once folks have answered my question and returned from their fugue states, they often ask me about my first memory. Here’s what I tell them.
Whenever I put any substance into my body, it was always simply a Keith Escape Vehicle (KEV). Because I am who I am (and that’s all who I am), I can turn a lot of different things into KEVs – spending, sex, travel, work. For today, for this minute at least, I’m trying to relax into being Keith instead of grabbing the keys and jumping into a KEV.
I don’t relate this to embarrass Larissa or anyone else who’s struggling to find a way to struggle to quit drinking. I danced that same dance for years, making a decision to quit drinking and believing that decision was the same as accomplishing the goal.
Knowing I’m going to anger three-quarters of the Dylan fans who read this, these songs make up the heart of the canon. They are the 12 Greatest Bob Dylan songs, properly sequenced for an album, a list for which I will brook no argument.
This was the tragedy, the kind of horror that usually leads to interviews with mothers and sisters of the victims, candlelit vigils and hand-wringing exclamations. Like a well-choreographed kabuki performance, the victims are remembered as saints, the families are cherished for the stiff upper lips and the incident slowly moves into the past like a sailboat disappearing into the fog.
Obligatory Promotional Paragraph: The segment on the Tiny White Box is scheduled to air Tuesday, February 13, at 7 p.m. on WMUR Channel 9, Manchester. While I’m having dinner with a friend in Manchester at 5 or so that evening, I have not decided where or whether to watch the show. If you’d like me to attend your Chronicle Watch Party, please contact my management agency.
Mother Theresa may have been short-tempered and cranky with her underlings – that doesn’t take away from the good work she did. Contrariwise, Bill Cosby was an incredibly funny role model for Americans – until it came out he was a chemically-enabled rapist. Anecdotes are just pieces of information, and they don’t compose an argument by themselves.
Monday, the Tiny White Box will host a visitor, Sean McDonald from Channel 9 News in Manchester. Sean hosts the morning news and a TV magazine show called “Chronicle.” For the latter, he and a crew are driving to the Tiny White Box, likely for a segment to be called “Eccentrics of the North Woods — And Why They Should be Kept There.”
Much has happened during this time I’ve been down, some of which I’ll be able to share with the world shortly. One thing is that I’ve had meals with six (6) (VI) of the 14 folks I named on New Year’s Day as people I wanted to reconnect with. The resolution continues.
I discovered a serious blow to my solitary life, a slap to my hermitic face, a forced attack on my writer’s retreat. Some bastard left a bushel of progress at the Tiny White Box, and I didn’t have the opportunity to refuse to sign for it. Let me explain.
If I’d known he was really going to come, perhaps bearing weapons and bad intentions, I would have used those extra hours for more than hanging out with Sam (is a dog), reading and eating lunch. I was stuck choosing between thanking Adam for postponing my murder, berating him for being tardy or improvising.
I don’t often write these things in real time, but today I must. It’s 10:08 a.m., Monday, January 8, I’m sitting inside the Warriors@45North* bunkhouse, a space I’ve never been in alone. After talking with Doc and Chief this morning, I came in here, started the fire and now I wait. For what? I don’t know.
For the President of the United States to demand the suppression of a book that provides no threat to national security, offers no classified information and doesn’t call for the violent overthrow of the government is a travesty.
To kick off this beautiful new year, I’ve invented a game, a challenge that I’m pretty sure I will be very good at, and no one else will be able to beat me. Doesn’t that sound like fun????. Get your bets in, and I’ll explain.
Why would any organization leave money on the table, and why would a man take a pay cut? Simple. It is the right thing to do, and it is necessary to maintain our core principles.