Glenn Kubish

Once a week here, I register three things from my little life that left behind signs of happiness and gratitude. Here you go, the U.S. Thanksgiving edition, with some CanCon to bring it home:                         1. Taxes, El Paso   The great French essayist Michel de Montaigne established the voice of conscience as humankind’s absolute sovereign. He wrote to the powers that be: “You may impose as heavy and ruinous taxes upon us as you please, but to command us to do shameful and dishonest things, you will lose your time, for it is to no purpose.” Of the causes of sedition, the great English essayist Francis Bacon included, along with advancement of unworthy persons, taxes. Of taxes, the American DJ Bob Dylan, speaking of the Jamaican singer-songwriter Prince Buster, said:   “Like all great artists he was able to turn things that bothered him into three minutes of musical pleasure.” I was wide awake after midnight ...

Three Things, episode 54 , has a bit of Auntie Shelagh solving a Wordle (and me solving, tentatively, an old question between wives and husbands), some Mozart, some Boston (from the first album) and some notes about being summoned to the boss's office.  1.  Word up It recently came to pass that Auntie Shelagh and I didn’t agree on something. What it was doesn’t matter. Okay, it was whether Wordle will give you more information than you have a right to after guessing one correct letter in the wrong spot. Like, if you guess, say, V as in Victor, and it’s in the wrong spot, but there are two Vs in the answer, will Wordle give you not just one but two yellow indicators? Auntie Shelagh said yes, or, at least, it should. I said no. When we’re at an impasse like this, we usually make a friendly wager. Whoever is right gets the book of her or his choice. We marshalled our arguments. I felt my competitive juices start to simmer. And then I remembered, of all things, graduate school, an...

The video is short, but the sound of the fire truck siren today took me back to a place I've been thinking in for awhile. That morning in January 10 years ago, I was sitting behind the wheel of my 1985 Camry at the corner of 51 Ave. and 109 St. The car was stopped. And facing south, which was strange, because work was a few blocks more to the east. On the passenger seat floor was a plate broken in two. Like two half moons, I thought. And on the passenger seat window the grilled cheese sandwich that had been on that plate was stuck. And it was so quiet. My thoughts had to be slowly lifted into place until I realized I had  just been in a crash. With that big pickup and those spotlights on its front. And I was scared. Baker This is not the item, but Sam Baker has a stunning description of being in a vehicle crash. In Iron , it is a single-vehicle accident, and, as they say, road conditions and alcohol were possible factors. The tires hit the edge, he spins like a t...