Tag Archives: Washington D.C.

Rugby players in green and white stripes and blue and red uniforms contesting for the ball on grass field with Washington Monument reflected in a pool behind
Memoirs -- fact and fiction, San Miguel de Allende, Writings

Pool Maintenance Lessons from the 1970s; Rugby and the Reflecting Pool

I wish President Trump had called me before tackling the reflecting pool. I could have saved him a lot of time and money.

You see, at one time, I was deeply involved in the pool maintenance business in Washington, D.C. I know a thing or two about algae, chlorine, diatomaceous earth, and how appealing you can become when you put on lifeguard shorts.

Yes, among the many jobs I held in those early years of wandering, wondering, discovery, staying one step ahead of the draft, and playing rugby, there was a time when I worked for the White Russian in the Washington pool business.

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Memoirs -- fact and fiction, San Miguel de Allende, Writings

A book fell into my lap and changed everything; a magical end to the 1960s

Showing up late for a party stoned and tipsy wasn’t very original in late-1969, though I was getting damned good at it — and tired of it all — a rudderless college drop-out, dodging the draft, hiding out in Washington D.C. in the shadow of the Selective Service.

I was fast becoming a mess.

Nobody at John and Linda’s party noticed – even when I stumbled back against the bookshelf and slid to the floor while Jenny from West Virginia badgered me with her latest career dilemma: Airline stewardess? Or a psychologist?

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Memoirs -- fact and fiction, Rants and raves, San Miguel de Allende, Writings

It is Liberation Day in my head

I’m done with “push” content from newspapers, substacks, pods and podcasters, bloggers, social media platforms, conspiracy boosters, angry MAGAs, fundraisers, revolutionists, ah-has and ma-ha’s, political shamans, alarmists, talking heads, Chicken Littles, grim reapers, Beltway pundits, scribblers, cartoonists, and diatribe specialists.

Or as another noted crank once put it, I’ve had it up to here with “Bagism, Shagism, Dragism, Madism, Ragism, Tagism, This-ism, that-ism, is-m, is-m, is-m.”

All I am saying is don’t give push a chance. 

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Memoirs -- fact and fiction, Rants and raves, San Miguel de Allende

‘Hit ’em! Hit ’em! Hit the sons of bitches! Hit ’em!’

I stare at this photograph that I took in — when was it? — 1970? 1971? I stare and I wonder, how many of my fellow Vietnam War protesters were part of the thuggery that took place this week at the Capitol?

Some, for sure. They would be in their very late-60s and mid-70s now. I was 21 when I snapped these photos.

A friend who just saw them asked, “Did you and your fellow hippies storm the Capitol?”

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