My first indication of a visiting vessel was the coffee-grinder-like sound of a bow thruster. My passengers—a former Recon Marine father and his 37-year-old son—helped the newcomers tie up, and before long, the steady beat of conversation drifted through my boat’s…
A misplaced power
May 11, 2023 Leaving the grocery store today, I saw a homeless man standing on the corner, holding a cardboard sign stating he was a Vietnam veteran. Pulling up to the stop sign, several well-established narratives, conditioned in my mind…
Bluewater
April 27, 2023 The sea has been my life’s central line of consistency, a colorful ally in my stumble through day-to-day existence. From my lifelong hobby, scuba diving, to my first real job as a Navy A-6 Intruder aircraft carrier…
The new, old me
While editing past blogs for a future book, I came across a piece written on February 14, 2021, six weeks after knee replacement surgery, while convalescing on the long road to recovery. From Humbled (again): “…An increased mental fogginess and a…
Yoga
Although not started until nearly a decade after Parkinson’s diagnosis, hot yoga has been a mainstay in my fight with the disease for control of mind, body, and soul. Last week saw the tenth anniversary of Chrysalis Hot Yoga, a…
The empowering choice
Recently, I flew to the East Coast to see my son, Jared. It was a great visit, with no pressure to do anything; simply being in the other’s presence was enough. Before I knew it, our time together was over,…
Cold comfort
I’ve been aware of the positive effects of even brief exposure to cold water since 2012 when five friends and I flipped our raft on a white-water rafting trip. As we drifted downstream in the icy river, I discovered regained…
A supreme freedom
Several people have asked me to provide a summary of my anti-Parkinson’s disease strategy as seen posted on social media video reels. With such a wide variety of symptoms, Parkinson’s is indeed an ala carte disease, manifesting differently in each…
Happy to be wrong
At the beginning of last November, I posted Life’s Grandest Question which tells of a shared experience with a dog-loving neighbor. I called him Mr. Johnson. While on my regular dog-walking route, I was shocked to see a much beaten down—but not…
She is my mother.
Familiar music fills the air, energizing the room’s collective mood from under the heavy thumb of malingering helplessness. Discrete instruments meld, joining soul to the beat of an atavistic song, summoning all to share in an era of familial innocents. Dancing…