DECEMBER 23, 2021

It’s 8 years today, Dad.

I think of you regularly. And I miss you all the time.

You were a great Santa.

I remember coming into the living room in my pajamas on Christmas morning and there was the plate with the cookie crumbs on it and the empty glass of milk.

Whatever it was that I really really wanted that year always seemed to be gift wrapped under our tree.

I still wear that leather jacket that you wore when I was a boy and I wrapped my arms around your back when you took me for rides on your motorcycle.

And I’ve been carrying the beautiful briefcase that you gave me when I graduated from law school into courtrooms all over this State for 45 years now.

In my heart I carry a deep abiding love for you, the wonderful man who taught me how to be a man by being a superb role model, who taught that freckled faced bucked tooth boy with patience, kindness and humor.

Christmas just isn’t the same without you.


Little Hawk, who is no longer little, visits, flies overhead, screeches to me, on a regular basis.

This marvelous Mother Earth contains wonders without end.


A few days ago the Daily Star ran one of its time capsules. If you opened it up in the middle, and looked on the right hand side, at the top of the page was a photograph of John Kennedy and right below him a photograph of his brother, Bobby.

I saw John speak in Cincinnati during the summer of 1960 when I was 11. He inspired me to believe that together we could change the world for the betterment for all people.

When John was murdered the world, and I, stood still and wept.

I was there when Bobby spoke at the main auditorium that day at the U of A. They weren’t letting anyone else in by the time I got there because it was filled to capacity. A guy threw a rope out of a second floor window and I climbed up the west side of the building, came through a window and heard Bobby speak.

Listen to “Abraham, Martin and John” sung by Dion. Didn’t you love the things that they stood for?

Now I am waiting, along with Lawrence Ferlinghetti, for that rebirth of wonder.

What the hell has happened to America?

Can any body tell me where it’s gone?

Evil walks its streets wearing very expensive suits, whispering hate filled moral obscenities in closed, finely furnished rooms.


Not long after I get home every day, I go out to my backyard, to see how my plants are doing, to run the drip and to check the pool.

There she was. About 8 inches tall. On the top step of the pool, her legs stretched up as far as possible, her head titled back so she could breathe.

She might have been there for a minute or for hours.

I got her out of the pool with the skimmer net and placed her on the ground.

She didn’t move from that spot for over 20 minutes. Maybe her legs were sore. Or cold. Maybe she was in shock.

I approached her twice. Both times she spread her little wings completely (the pattern on the inside of her feathers was gorgeous) and opened her curved beak all the way.

Fierce little hawk.

Leave me alone, Jeffrey. I can tend to myself.

Later she flew away.

The wonders of the world are manifold and stupendous.


I have always loved to read.

Of the thousands of books that I have read, The Sixth Extinction by Elizabeth Kolbert is the most important book that I have ever read.

The books that have influenced me the most are The Teachings of Don Juan, A Separate Reality, Journey to Ixtlan and Tales of Power, all by Carlos Castaneda.

My favorite, stranded on a desert island with just one book to read book, is The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice.

Rounding out the top five would be Tai Pan by James Clavell, Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry, Magister Ludi by Herman Hesse and Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.


I carry you through time with me, Dad. As long as I live you will live too; in my memories, in my mind’s eye, in my heart; in that part of this man that only death could eradicate.

I wish we could do it all over again.

Hey everybody. I had the world’s greatest dad. He never noticed that I had bucked teeth and freckles and a big butt.

That honest, gifted, classy, handsome man loved me. He went to bat for me over and over and over again because somewhere in his core he believed that that is what a father should do for his son.

I love you Dad.

Father’s Day and every day.