Author Archives: sputterpub

Pronunciation

I remember my surprise about that word. I was probably in 7th grade, and it made no sense to me. We say “pronounce.” Why not “pronounciation?” It was a mystery similar to how a flute was played by a flautist instead … Continue reading →

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Homework

I was browsing through old poems recently, and came across two written 17 years ago but in the same week, about life with my kids. I was 44 at the time. Katie had just turned 18 and Danny was 12. … Continue reading →

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How Could You

Most of what I write about my father is positive. Mostly I admired and agreed with him. But there were a few areas in which our attitudes did not jibe. Dad had ideas about appropriateness that I never got. He taught … Continue reading →

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Momentum

They say it takes six weeks to make a new habit. I think there’s truth in that, but not complete truth. In fact, it takes three days to set a new course of behavior. It takes six weeks to make … Continue reading →

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Information

When you’re caught in a catastrophe but not pressed by injury or urgency (me, Loma Prieta), the biggest problem is the lack of information. Rumors fly. Cell networks fail. Even the emergency responders have trouble communicating. It’s dreadful. But understandable. … Continue reading →

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31 Flavors

I eavesdropped on flight attendant talk a year or so ago, and heard something I can’t forget. I was on the way to Europe, so the attendants were multi-lingual. I had an aisle seat, and the two women were stalled … Continue reading →

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Gifted Kids

I was 44 when I drafted this sonnet, and my kids were 17 and 12. My interlocutor had sons age 11 and 4. Our biggest area of disagreement was parenting. My goal was to raise self-regulating individuals who could handle … Continue reading →

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What’s Right

A couple of months ago, Danny got wise with me. He said, “It seems to me there are two ways of being right. One depends on remembering the correct answer and the other requires solving a problem. In my opinion, … Continue reading →

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A Future Memory

As cool as foliage, this morning feels, as sweet as cantaloupe and light as fern. I walk to downtown Berkeley and my heels don’t ache, my neck is loose; I do not yearn for anything beyond my limbered reach. Mature … Continue reading →

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Common Sense

When you become a grownup at five, your big questions are different than the issues interesting to chronological adults. You wonder why the 30 other kids in your kindergarten class listen to the one teacher. (And as you age and … Continue reading →

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