In my older age, I’m getting soft, and I’ve learned to do stupid things a lot smarter. I’m a 47-year-old bald and smooth Chinese dude. That’s what I wrote on dating apps when I encouraged women to change it up from the norm here in Portland, Oregon. Tired of all…

It feels good not wanting to destroy my old house. — I just bought a lunch gift certificate for my Ex and her new partner. They’re celebrating their commitment in Maui. Last month they ended up at the same concert as my girlfriend and they all sat together. During a recent heatwave I napped in my Ex’s house on my old…

We can be a shoulder to cry on and cry at the same time. — Paddy the Baddy ain’t so bad. The brash UFC mixed martial arts fighter with a British-Scouser accent famously talks a lot of smack. However, after winning his fight in London on July 23, he didn’t bash his fallen opponent or arrogantly tout his skills. He used the stage to send…

Helping my Dad live his best life. — “Whoa Dad. You look more wobbly than usual. Should we bag it or fire through?” My 76 year old dad lifts his head and stares at me with glassy eyes. He smacks his lips, something he’s doing more of as Parkinson’s Disease affects his speech. He replies, “Fire through!” “Ok,”…

A lucky cat naps and dreams of her previous chapters. — Baetis, the old tabby with the ginger accents, labors up a cedar plank ramp to her perch at the kitchen window. Curled claws grip and click on the soft wood. Her claws have left marks at ten different homes spanning almost two decades on both sides of the equator. Many…

The Deep-Sad: Some hurts never leave completely. I stared at the basement wall with its built in cabinets and oversized drawers and I cried. The deep drawers were made to swallow all the supplies a preschool teacher needs to nurture the minds of young ones. I made and painted every…

The battle against Nature Deficit Disorder. — “…as human beings we need direct, natural experiences; we require fully activated senses in order to feel fully alive.” Richard Louv — Author of Last Child in the Woods Slugs hang from the nostrils of my two kids. The strands of mucous dance in rhythm with their steps. Smiles burst…

The legacy of my Mom’s love and a wok. — I reach for a worn wood handle. A warm feeling shoots into my hand, different from the flames heating the well-seasoned wok before me. I wonder how many times Mom gripped the handle of this wok? …

Forget hospice. This is how I want to go. My shriveled body is done but my smile thrives. Sometimes I remember friends and family and sometimes I don’t. All I talk about are waves. Everyone knows my stories better than me. Makaha, Honolua Bay, Peru, Portugal, Baja, and my home…