Working for a giant

As regular followers of this blog know, I have two jobs: freelance teacher and part-time barista. I work as a humble part-time barista for the largest coffeehouse company in the world, Starbucks. And I can´t deny that this results in mixed feelings. I am older than this upstart of a company. In fact, I am… Continue reading Working for a giant

Dark discussions

I asked Reggie, my American cousin in all but bloodline, why Americans are responding with such fear and suspicion to Syrian refugees. He responded that I should not be so surprised considering how America treats its minorities already resident there. Why, I asked Reggie my ebony brother, was there so much violence against black folks in… Continue reading Dark discussions

Saints and monsters

It was with the greatest pleasure that I spent most of the first two days of December in my favourite European City, Freiburg im Breisgau, the “capital” of southwestern Germany´s Black Forest. I have in two previous posts briefly touched upon my last visit to Freiburg (Sign of the Times / Victims of the Machine)… Continue reading Saints and monsters

And no birds sing

I hardly knew him. He was never in my classes in high school. We never hung around one another. His brother and I, though the same age and level, never really knew each other, except by recognisable face in the hallway or presence in the classroom. Until the high school reunion two decades later, I… Continue reading And no birds sing

Pedestrian on the Information Highway

There is a powerful short story, referred to in Fahrenheit 451, called The Pedestrian, by the late great sci-fi writer Ray Bradbury. A man regularly goes for a stroll through the empty streets of a big futuristic metropolis to observe and absorb the world outside his door. One night a robotic patrol car stops him… Continue reading Pedestrian on the Information Highway

Fury in the Slaughterhouse: Guns in America

“There’s an old lady, Living in an old house Since her husband died She hasn’t been out. She lives in her own world With her own little nightmares And she’s stopped counting the days. She buys a radio station With her husband’s legacy. She does her own show 10 hours a day Plays poems and… Continue reading Fury in the Slaughterhouse: Guns in America

Welcome to Customsland

I have friends who just can’t seem to get a break whenever they try and visit faraway places, because when they try to enter these lands, customs deny them entry. One might ask why, because, after all, they are no obvious threat to anyone, have no criminal background, are not a visible minority and they… Continue reading Welcome to Customsland