my careless contagion

The Love of My Life is a lovely book by British author Rosie Walsh. The Brits do some good writing, I must say, though I'm mostly familiar with classic English literature, the kind that makes you want to go for a walk on the heath or throw yourself off a chalk cliff. I wonder how many people who read romance novels realize the idea of romantic love is a relatively new construct. In fact, romance novels did much to popularize it. There is some argument, of course, but historians generally agree marrying for love is a new concept and not a base instinct. Romantic love, as we call it, lasts no longer than 3 years. No wonder so many marriages fail. True, love is just a choice we make, otherwise the Bible wouldn't tell us to love one another or for husbands to love their wives, etc. It's a choice. But, for most, they need the feeling of falling in love first. That chemical bond is necessary. Hormones. Attraction. A woman knows within seconds if she wants to make love to a man. M...

I spent a lot of time on this blog giving space to my own words. Today is different. Today I got the following in my inbox. I publish it here because I can't form my own words. I am beyond devastated. I replied to it, of course, but that was for me. Now this is for her. This is what Cindy wrote to me last night, which I read this morning. The above photo is one of my favorites. Maybe that's her now, finally at peace about me. Free. I hope so.  *** Hi Joshua, I don't know how to put everything into words that I've been processing in my mind for the last few weeks, but I'm going to do it as clearly as I can. My cousin said something last week that really brought some clarity to my situation with you and me. She was talking about how she was so undecided when her now-husband was pursuing her. She would be all in with him and then pull back and go through that cycle over and over again. Sound familiar? She recounted the story in Mark 11, when the Pharisees were asking J...

Been a while. Let's catch up.  I read Where the Crawdads Sing, starting in late July and ending early August. It's not rare that I read books, so why am I posting? All I wanted was a mindless book to read so searched for popular books and went to the public library. This one I found interesting. Normally, I check out at a kiosk, but this time it didn't work properly so took it to the counter. The woman looked it over a bit longer than necessary but didn't say anything. Maybe she knew I was in for something. Maybe she thought it an odd book for a man to read. Maybe she wondered if crawdads actually sing.  Where the Crawdads Sing refers to a place far away from civilization, was published in 2018, and was made into a movie, released in 2022. I had no knowledge of any of it, just wanted a book to occupy my mind. Checked out a Bret Easton Ellis book before this but returned it after two chapters because it wasn't sparking joy, so to speak. Normally, I enjoy his writing ...

January 28, 2018, I started this blog. I was alone and the divorce was nearly final (February 8). With no one to talk to about what I was feeling, I wrote here, originally transcribing from a notebook. What began as a form of therapy evolved into a journey of faith. What started in a very bad place ended in a much better place, though I am still alone. This blog garnered 34,000 hits over six years, which is a big surprise. (Also surprised attempts to create a new blog failed, but the love letters written to a certain woman were likely the reason anyone read here anyway.) Thank you to everyone who read here at some point. I prayed you got something out of it. Learned a lot about myself and am a lot humbler at its closing than at its beginning. Honesty, facing problems, and working toward solutions paid off, but it was God who did a work.  I cut my teeth on gospel songs. Win Worley's song sermons were my favorite and listened to them on cassette over and over. Such joy in that man...

Unexpectedly, she came back into my life. There she was, at my door, and I welcomed her in. We talked. My heart throbbed with excitement. There she is, Joshua, the one you love! Right in front of you!  Being with her felt natural, like she'd always been there, like she would always be there. Like a part of me was returned or made whole. She just made sense. My favorite memories with her were simple ones: walking, talking, sometimes with Brutus  (the cheagle) and my son. There was the walk we took one summer day at a recreation area outside town. It felt like the rightest thing in the world to be with her.  It may sound strange, what I'm about to say, but it's true. I love the arrangement of her features. Her face and all its parts. Her body and how it's put together. I can't see inside, but I saw the outworking of its parts, and she is as beautiful inside as out. Her heart is my favorite feature.  The heart of that woman is precious. She displays a humility before t...

I would be remiss to leave this space without posting something from Samiam (it's been a while, but I did post something before). I had to do a bit of a thinky-think session as to what to post, though. She Found You (1997) won, though many others deserve honorable mention. Simply wanted to post a good song from a band that captured my attention for many years. This was one of the first songs I heard and it's still a favorite. I even drove from Ohio to Pittsburg (staying in New Jersey, eww) to see them play a festival, and then turned around and caught them in Detroit about a week later. They continue to record music and tour. Anyway.  Other songs contending for the prize were Mud Hill (a proper breakup song), Dull (about how dull life can be when you're alone), and Sunshine (how I imagine being a girl and the object of someone's affection feels like). None of them made as much sense as She Found You, as it is clear I was greatly affected by relationships with women in...

Fugazi's Waiting Room is probably better discussed by this author  (it's short) than by me. I just want talk about what the band meant to me. Since we're talking about waiting, let me say waiting is a useless enterprise by itself. Waiting does absolutely nothing in and of itself. Waiting — combined with other activities — can yield positive results, but problems don't go away on their own. The passing of time does not solve anything except our own existence. Problems require the application of a solution. There.  I saw Fugazi in 1998 (forget where but somewhere in Michigan), and a few days after that saw Bad Religion (in Ann Arbor) for the first time, so Fugazi was my first show. They were from Washington, D.C., and kept their ticket prices low so kids could attend. Hardcore was always for the kids. (I guess you would call this post-hardcore.) Tickets were $5 plus $1 Ticketmaster fee. Whereas Bad Religion was lyrics-driven, I liked Fugazi because it was guitar-driven. I...

I asked my mom to answer questions recently about motherhood. Here are her answers. I include it here because it is retrospective in nature and I don't want to lose it.  *** 1.Favorite memory: It’s really hard to pinpoint one thing. I loved holding my babies, carrying them. Having them fall asleep on my shoulder. Nursing them, knowing I was feeding them something that was really good for them. You would nurse for  awhile  , then pull away, smile at me, then go back to nursing. What a joy! When you were older, reading books together was fun. I just loved having all my children underfoot, at home. As far as you were concerned, you gave the best hugs. When I was grouchy, you would ask if I needed a hug. You always seemed to understand me; we were on the same wavelength, You didn’t talk much, but when you did, you always had something important to say. You were thoughtful, you thought a lot about deep things. You had a good understanding of important things. I enjoyed having ...

Nothing fascinated me musically as much as the band Bad Religion. I used to spend so much time researching the band and its members, even talking to Jay Bentley on internet relay chat (IRC), #badreligion on undernet. The fascination really took hold when I was in college. I was bored, technologically inclined, and a wee bit malcontent.  No band is as misunderstood as Bad Religion, and some fans like it that way. It's a barrier to the band becoming massively popular (they are more popular outside the U.S.), but it also makes you feel like you're in on the joke. Others don't understand. That's the reason hardcore and punk rock were important to a lot of people. It was a way of excluding those who excluded them from society. When our bands became too popular (a subjective thought if there ever was), we called them poseurs and fled to other, lesser-known bands. Gotta keep it real. But I was always into Bad Religion and remained a fan (even though I didn't share their po...