Overthinking the checkout chit-chat

January 15, 2017

The scene: I am buying groceries from Ryan [not the clerk’s actual name] at Albertsons [not the store’s actual name].

Ryan: Blackberries, eh?

Me [aloud]: Yup.

Ryan [struggling to scan the package]: This UPC code is way too small. I’d like to strangle whoever thought this was a good idea.

Me [internally]: I know you’re kidding, but jeez! Even facetious talk of violence makes me kind of queasy these days. Are you aware that a lot of marginalized people feel as though they’re walking around with bull’s-eyes on their backs? On the other hand, you didn’t say that you would actually strangle somebody, just that you felt like doing so. Maybe it’s healthy for you to acknowledge your frustration without intending to act upon it?

Ryan: I could commit murder, but do it with style.

Me [internally]: What? Can we please talk about something else? Or about nothing? Somehow I must register disapproval, however mildly…

Me [aloud]: You know, Ryan, I don’t think that’s possible.

Ryan: That’s true. I’m not British.

Me [aloud]: [polite chuckle]

Ryan: The French could never pull it off. They’d have to make it into a big drama.

Me [internally]: Oh, great, more stereotypes. Yes, let’s pick on the French. Or maybe you’re COMPLIMENTING the French on their inability to kill casually — they know that life is precious — and slamming the British for making murder look cool? What is your heritage, anyway? Is it OK to make fun of one’s own tribe?

Me [aloud]: Did you already scan my card? I can’t remember.

Me [internally]: All this talk of homicide has been slightly distracting, you see…

Ryan: I can’t remember either. I’ll scan it again just in case. Don’t worry, I’ll be normal once I get my second cup of coffee. Have a great day!

Me [aloud]: You too!

Me [internally]: Try not to strangle anyone.

Where it all began
Here’s where it all began.


Marshall & Warren: cinematic science

January 13, 2017

Portrayals of science and scientists on television and in movies are often hilariously fanciful. In the generally wonderful BBC/PBS series “Sherlock,” for example, the title character sees the chemical structures of individual molecules through an ordinary light microscope. I guess peering into a ‘scope makes for more compelling and succinct visuals than, say, running samples through an HPLC and laboriously comparing them to standards. (“It’s UNCANNY, Watson! The retention time in THIS solvent is 9.72 minutes — HIGHLY suggestive of a halogen-substituted phenol!”)

Every so often, though, you come across a real-life science story that has an undeniably cinematic arc. Such is the tale of Australian physicians Barry J. Marshall and J. Robin Warren, who won the 2005 Nobel Prize in Medicine or Physiology for discovering the bacterium Helicobacter pylori and showing that it causes most cases of gastritis and peptic ulcers.

As recounted by Marshall (2001), his work with Warren drew upon four previously disparate strands of biomedical ideas and evidence. These strands, as of the late 1970s, were as follows. (1) Spiral-shaped bacteria had occasionally been found in the stomachs of various mammals, including humans. But these bacteria were not widely suspected of causing any particular disease. (2) Gastritis –- inflammation of the stomach -– was a well-known problem generally attributed to stress, which supposedly induced secretion of excessive acid into the stomach. But some patients developed gastritis despite an impaired ability to secrete acid. (3) An enzyme called urease, which breaks urea into carbon dioxide and ammonia, had been found in the stomach; some evidence suggested that it had been produced by bacteria. But urease’s importance, if any, was unclear. (4) Formulations containing bismuth, a heavy metal, had been used to successfully treat nonspecific gastrointestinal problems. But the mechanism of action and the importance of the bismuth itself were not clear either.

In pivotal studies conducted mostly in the early 1980s, Marshall and Warren synthesized these four strands into a coherent theory, as follows. Gastritis was not caused by acid secretion problems per se but by the spiral bacterium, H. pylori, which burrows into the mucus lining the stomach and causes inflammation. While most bacteria cannot survive the low pH of the stomach, H. pylori produces and secretes urease, which helps it weather the acidic environment by producing ammonia, which serves as a buffer. Finally, bismuth can cure gastric problems by serving as an antibiotic, killing H. pylori and ending the corresponding inflammation.

This was an exciting story in and of itself, but there was more. Not only does H. pylori cause the acute condition of gastritis, it turns out to be the main culprit in the chronic conditions of stomach ulcers and stomach cancer. Antibiotics were found to cure ulcers as well as gastritis (Marshall et al., 1988), and to drastically reduce the incidence of stomach cancer.

Marshall and Warren were initially ridiculed and dismissed. One can debate the extent to which this skepticism on the part of the scientific community was appropriate, because the preliminary evidence produced by Marshall and Warren was clear, but not overwhelming. A perfect example of this is the study in which Marshall et al. (1985) fulfilled Koch’s four postulates for identifying the causative agent of an infectious disease. Meeting the postulates is strong evidence that a disease’s cause has been found (Evans, 1976), so Marshall et al.’s (1985) study could be considered strong, yet — spoiler alert! — it was conducted on only one subject, Marshall himself, who gave himself gastritis by drinking a broth of H. pylori taken from another patient. Marshall believed this necessary because he had not been able to get H. pylori to cause disease in a healthy animal (Marshall & Adams, 2008), the usual way of fulfilling Koch’s third postulate. The study was not published in an elite journal but rather The Medical Journal of Australia, whose middling reputation may have also limited awareness and acceptance of the conclusions. Moreover, the idea that bacteria could cause disease in the stomach was considered implausible by many physicians, who assumed that the stomach’s high acidity kills essentially all microbes (Weintraub, 2010).

Another major, slightly comical step forward came during Marshall and Warren’s first big clinical study, in which they checked 100 gastritis patients for the possible presence of H. pylori in their stomachs (Marshall & Warren, 1984). They had no luck with the first 34 patients, but — spoiler alert! — sample #35 came back positive after incubating over a long holiday weekend, which gave the slow-growing H. pylori extra time to reveal itself. (It was actually during Easter. How perfect is that? On the third day, the bacteria appeared again. They were alive after all! Alive, I say!) After this, all samples were incubated for four days rather than two, and most were found to contain H. pylori.

It really is a great story. Why hasn’t it been turned into a movie?


Evans, A. S. (1976). Causation and disease: the Henle-Koch postulates revisited. The Yale Journal of Biology and Medicine, 49(2), 175-195.

Marshall, B. J. (2001). One hundred years of discovery and rediscovery of Helicobacter pylori and its association with peptic ulcer disease. In H. L. T. Mobley, G. L. Mendz, & S. L. Hazell (Eds.), Helicobacter pylori: Physiology and Genetics. Washington (DC): ASM Press.

Marshall, B., & Adams, P. C. (2008). Helicobacter pylori: A Nobel pursuit? Canadian Journal of Gastroenterology, 22(11), 895.

Marshall, B. J., Armstrong, J. A., McGechie, D. B., & Glancy, R. J. (1985). Attempt to fulfil Koch’s postulates for pyloric Campylobacter. The Medical Journal of Australia, 142(8), 436-439.

Marshall, B. J., & Warren, J. R. (1984). Unidentified curved bacilli in the stomach of patients with gastritis and peptic ulceration. The Lancet, 323(8390), 1311-1315.

Marshall, B., Warren, J. R., Blincow, E., Phillips, M., Goodwin, C. S., Murray, R., … & Sanderson, C. (1988). Prospective double-blind trial of duodenal ulcer relapse after eradication of Campylobacter pylori. The Lancet, 332(8626), 1437-1442.

Weintraub, P. (2010). The Dr. who drank infectious broth, gave himself an ulcer, and solved a medical mystery. Discover Magazine, March 2010.


Trump is ever so slightly right about media bias, part 2: Streep-gate

January 10, 2017

[Click here for Part 1.]

Everyone has been talking about Meryl Streep’s Golden Globes acceptance speech in which she criticized Donald Trump for mocking a reporter’s disability. Predictably enough, Trump fan are incensed. But did Trump really make fun of Serge Kovaleski’s arthrogryposis? The truth, according to me, is that we’ll never know for sure.

Everyone who cares about this issue has seen the footage of Trump flailing around as he momentarily pretends to be Kovaleski. The key question is, was he specifically referencing Kovaleski’s physical limitations, or just impersonating a generic flustered, incompetent person?

The first interpretation is definitely plausible. But so is the second one, in light of two key points made by pro-Trump sites such as Catholics4Trump.com. First, Trump’s vaguely epileptic flailing bears little resemblance to Kovaleski’s limited movements. Second, Trump has made similar flailing motions when mocking other (non-disabled) people (a general; Ted Cruz; himself, when forced to go on vacation; a bank president; Donna Brazile).

(The article I’m linking to is NOT a good article overall. It has many problems. But we’re not going to get into those. Let’s focus solely on the disability issue.)

I’ve read the Washington Post’s defense of Streep, but the evidence is not nearly as strong as the Post claims. In particular, the Post’s use of the still frame, showing that Trump’s arm and wrist were bent like Kovaleski’s for at least a fraction of a second, is a cheap trick, as pointed out by Catholics4Trump.com. If Trump had frozen himself into a distinctly Kovaleski-like pose, that would indeed be damning, but the fact that his arm resembled Kovaleski’s at one moment in time is NOT a smoking gun. Not even close.

If Meryl Streep — whom I generally admire as an actress and as a person — wanted to make a compelling statement about Donald Trump’s treatment of marginalized people, she should have chosen a better, more clear-cut example. The fact that Trump seems (to liberals like me) like the kind of guy who might mock a disability does not mean that he actually did.

We need to pick our battles, people. This should not be one of them.

[UPDATE: Via Facebook, my friend David Crossman, who disagrees with me, cites another Washington Post fact-checker article that exposes Trump’s dishonesty in talking about Kovalesky. I agree with many aspects of that article, though not its specific conclusions on the disability issue.]

What exactly does this prove? Image taken from Catholics4Trump.com.


2016, agGREGated: Trump, job apps, pregnancy

January 9, 2017

If you tried to deduce what last year was like for me based on my irregular scattershot posts during the year, you probably wouldn’t do very well. So, for a less cryptic view of my 2016, read on. In brief, there were three main themes.


No surprise here, right? Donald Trump was such an unbelievable character that even I, with my modest interest in politics, felt compelled to read and (eventually) write about him throughout the year, for better or worse.

Among the many, many Trump stories that I saw, my favorite was a post-election piece by Seth Stevenson of Slate.

There was something else. An uncomfortable suspicion taking hold in me. I became convinced we [journalists] weren’t at these [Trump] rallies to observe. We were there to be observed….

Perhaps I’d been naive, but it only now dawned on me, in the final week of the campaign, to my great horror, that the real reason they put us [journalists] in the pen was so they could turn us into props. We were a vital element in Trump’s performance. He never once failed to invite his crowds to heckle us. He was placing us on display like captured animals.

And it worked. The press pack, collectively, looked nothing like the crowds at Trump events—particularly in more rural towns. We’d file into these places with our sleek luggage and our expensive tech gear and our better haircuts. We were far more diverse than the people in the stands. When the crowds lustily booed us, we’d sit there impassive and stone-faced, and this only further served to convince the rallygoers that we were snobby, superior pricks. The pen was an amazingly efficient means of othering us.

Behold, Trump said to his fans, I’ve rounded up a passel of those elites you detest. And I’ve caged them for you! Allow me to belittle them for your delight. Here, now you take a turn—go ahead, have at it! Do it again, don’t be shy! Under President Trump, the other elites will be in cages, too. We’ll lock them up, just like the chant goes. Just like you wanted. You’ll be their captors.

As one of the journalism-valuing, anti-bullying “elites” against whom Trump raged, I struggled mightily to comprehend his candidacy, much less respond to it. But my open letter to my students was a useful contribution to the conversation, I think.


2016 was also a really hard year in terms of job-searching. My tale of one of my near-misses was published on a friend’s academic blog last month.

I felt unstoppable. Fourteen years after finishing my Ph.D., I would finally be settling into a stable position that I really wanted and totally deserved.

And then I got a call from my department chair. “I’m afraid I have bad news,” he began. I hadn’t gotten the job -– either job. I was a well-liked, already-successful internal candidate, and I couldn’t even place in the top two.

Up to now, I’ve been hesitant to air such laments publicly. (I wrote the above post only after a less personal version [eventually revised and posted here] was declined by my friend.) I guess I’ve been worried about being perceived by prospective employers as a whiner or a loser. But it’s time to stop worrying. If you pre-judge me as unworthy simply because I think there’s value in acknowledging and discussing one’s failures, well, that’s your prerogative — and your loss.


On to happier stuff! My wife has blogged about this (here, here, and here); the bottom line is that we’re expecting a baby boy on or around February 5th.

For me, the best part was after the MRI … when the radiology technician showed me some of the images and even a video…. I was astounded to see my favorite little alien moving around in there — it looked like he was having quite the dance party! It put a huge smile on my face the rest of the day to have a mental image of what was going on down below every time my stomach turns and tickles.

2017 should be really, really interesting.

* * * * * *


slide from job talk



Trump is ever so slightly right about media bias

January 3, 2017

It is no secret that I consider Donald Trump unsuited to be president of the United States. But once he was elected, I decided to get to know him a bit better … by following him on Twitter. (Not exactly march-on-Washington activism, I know. But it’s a start.)

Some of his tweets seemed fine: standard rah-rah campaign rhetoric, shout-outs to his friends, etc. Others struck me as outrageous. For example:

Of course, nobody likes to see negative news coverage of oneself, but here Trump is (A) dismissing the work of an entire profession and (B) disingenuously claiming that he tweets largely to correct media distortions. (Why can’t he just admit that tweeting is fun for him?)

In sifting through his media-related tweets, though, I came across two that sounded more like justifiable self-defense.

Trump was presumably referring to a CNN story whose headline was Conway on Trump ‘Apprentice’ role: He’ll do it in his spare time.

For Trump-hating liberals, that headline is pure catnip. I certainly fell for it. “My God,” I thought, “why can’t he let go of his stupid reality TV show and focus on governing the country?”

But the reporting in the article itself is limited to two unremarkable claims by Trump adviser Kellyanne Conway: (1) presidents have some free time in which to pursue non-government interests and (2) Trump is meeting with people who are helping him figure out whether he can or cannot be involved in things like The Apprentice.

In other words, Conway did NOT say that Trump would be working on The Apprentice, yet the clickbaity headline indicates the opposite. In this particular case, Trump’s anger was justified.

In 2017, as we retreat to our respective bubbles and echo chambers, let’s remember that no source is infallible, and that our adversaries are sometimes right.



Confessions of a grinch, part 1

December 27, 2016

My son and I just read Ellen Raskin’s mystery The Westing Game, a Newbery Medal winner. We really liked it, but that is not the point of this post.

The point of this post is that the book includes a strong, admirable character who articulates a perspective on smiling that I agree with.

Basically, we’re against it.

Long before becoming a judge, Josie-Jo Ford had decided to stop smiling. Smiling without good reason was demeaning. A serious face put the smiler on the defensive, a rare smile put a nervous witness at ease. She now bestowed one of her rare smiles on the dressmaker. “I’m so glad we have this chance to become acquainted, Mrs. Baumbach. I had so little time to chat with my guests last night.”

Like Judge Ford, I tend to treat smiles as capital to be spent sparingly. The air of neutrality is a good match to my sense of myself as introverted and studious. But it’s not necessarily optimal for my family and friends.

I am lucky to be married to someone who smiles more than I do. Perhaps in 2017 I will return the favor more frequently.

The Westing Game cover


Recent videos

December 5, 2016

As long as I’m using this blog to support family causes such as my parents’ anti-fluoridation work, I should also throw in a plug for my sister’s company’s new video, which nicely showcases their customizable dresses and headbands for girls 3-7 and their dolls. Great fun for those who enjoy spontaneous, open-ended accessorizing!

Other recent videos of possible interest: my song Cranial Nerve Functions, performed by Do Peterson; my song Kidney Wonderland, performed by me at the UW Nephrology holiday party.


Fluoridated drinking water is not an elegant 21st-century solution

December 3, 2016

In a previous post, I explained why, overall, I approve of the anti-fluoridation movement. Now I want to address one specific aspect of this that is partly scientific but partly philosophical and aesthetic.

First, a bit of personal context. In the lab-research phase of my career, I spent about 7 years working on the development of new drugs for infectious diseases like malaria. To my great disappointment, my work did not contribute much to the fight against these diseases. However, as I worked in this sphere, I was dazzled by others’ advances, such as the following:

(1) A project led by Meg Phillips (UT-Southwestern) and Pradip Rathod (University of Washington) has intensively studied dihydrooroate dehydrogenase (DHODH), an enzyme thought to be a good malaria drug target. In other words, if a drug impairs this enzyme in malaria parasites (Plasmodium falciparum and related species), the parasite should die and the infected person should be cured of malaria. Over the past 15+ years, DHODH has been characterized in almost obsessive detail, enabling the design of chemicals that strongly block the Plasmodium DHODH without messing up the human DHODH or other human enzymes. A new drug based on this work, DSM265, is currently undergoing clinical trials.

Figure (taken from Phillips et al., Science Translational Medicine 7: 296ra111, 2015) showing how the drug DSM265 nestles among specific amino acids of DHODH, thus disrupting its function.

(2) Among already-approved malaria drugs, artemisinin-related compounds are the best ones we have. However, isolating artemisinin from its natural source (the plant Artemisia annua) is costly and time-consuming. A team led by Jay Keasling developed an intricate “semi-synthetic” process, involving both genetically engineered yeast and chemical engineering technology, by which artemisinins can be made cheaply in the lab from simple starting materials.

Artemisin synthesis, part 1
Artesinin synthesis, part 2
Figures (taken from Paddon et al., Nature 496: 528-532, 2013) showing how artemisin can be synthesized in a chemical engineering lab.

To me, these projects represent the pinnacle of modern biomedical science. They were exceptionally hard, but years of relentless detail-oriented work by large groups of talented scientists — not to mention generous funding from government and nonprofit groups — led to practical advances that could save uncountable lives.

When held up against such thorough, painstaking work, the strategy of fighting tooth decay by dumping fluoride into drinking water strikes me as really lame.

For the sake of this argument, I’m not taking a stand on the strength of the evidence that fluoride reduces the formation of dental caries (cavities). Let’s assume that it does. The key point here is that according to most pro-fluoridation experts, fluoride acts topically (i.e., at the surface of teeth) rather than systemically (i.e., by passing through the blood and the rest of the body).

The Fluoride Action Network argues, “If fluoride works topically, there is no need to swallow it, and therefore no need to add it to the water supply. This is especially so when considering that (1) fluoride is not a nutrient, and (2) fluoride’s risks come from ingestion.” This reasoning really speaks to me as a scientist.

As illustrated above, we live in an age of remarkable biomedical resources. With the efforts of our best scientists, we can achieve great things like cure malaria with the best precision drugs mankind has ever known. In this can-do environment, do our most sensible and sophisticated cavity-fighting efforts really involve delivering fluoride to the wrong place in the body (the gastrointestinal tract) and hoping that the right amount of it trickles to the right place (the teeth)?

Fluoridated water’s relative safety or lack thereof is, in some ways, beside the point; it’s simply not the best option that we have. As scientifically literate, non-superstitious people, if we want fluoride to act on our teeth, we should put it on our teeth (e.g., with fluoride toothpaste), then spit it out. Period.

In closing, I want to acknowledge a counterargument to which I am sympathetic. People with limited incomes are least likely to get regular professional dental care and are also least likely to be able to afford fluoride toothpaste or be aware of its value. Shouldn’t we fluoridate water to give these vulnerable people the benefits of fluoride even if they’re not brushing regularly with fluoride toothpaste?

I think it’s a reasonable question. But if I were the mayor of a fluoridated-water town, I’d redirect all fluoridation funding into programs to aggressively distribute fluoride toothpaste to all low-income people who need it. And if I were a dentist, rather than lobbying for water fluoridation, I’d focus on this more intelligent route of fluoride delivery.


I’m not an ecologist, but sometimes I play one on the Internet

December 2, 2016

This fall, I’ve been teaching introductory ecology & evolution labs for BBio 180 at UW-Bothell. It had been quite a while since I had worked directly with eco-evo material, so it was interesting to look at it with fresh eyes, sort of as my students were doing.

As the quarter progressed, I got the urge to contribute something to the excellent Dynamic Ecology blog run by bona fide ecologists, including my friend Jeremy Fox. So I pitched Jeremy a post on teaching with imperfect analogies, featuring eco-evo examples, which he liked and published.

With eco-evo analogies on my brain, I then started applying them to the realm of academic job searches, which led me to write another piece, which is posted below.

Ecology analogies for the academic job market

Dear Tenured People:

The academic job market continues to suck. Most of your students will be unable to land stable faculty jobs. Please discuss this fact, repeatedly, with your students and trainees. Explicitly acknowledging the extreme difficulty of getting a prized professorship is a vaccine against complacency and self-delusion, both in them and in you, the mentors who send them forth into the world. Since these discussions can be boring and/or dreary, you might consider enlivening them with the analogies below.


Aging Adjunct

* * * * * * *

Analogy #1: Net reproductive rate R0

I began a recent UW-BERG seminar on job searches with an odd “hook”: a worksheet on net reproductive rate, R0, defined as the average number of female offspring produced by each female parent. (Females are the focus here because males are usually not limiting to reproduction.)

From the definition of R0, it follows that, in the absence of other changes (e.g., in lifespan), the population declines if R0 is less than 1, holds steady if R0 equals 1, and grows if R0 is greater than 1.

We can then move, as the worksheet does, to the concept of the academic reproductive rate as defined by Larson et al. (2014) and Gaffarzadegan et al. (2015). The academic R0 can be considered to be the average number of PhD students graduated by a tenure-track faculty member.

Gaffarzadegan et al. have a nice graph showing that, since 1980, the number of biology PhDs has increased dramatically while the number of tenure-track faculty positions has barely changed, causing the biologist R0 to rise from 2.4 (1980-90) to 6.3 (2010-2015).

With this additional information, discussions of academic job prospects can proceed in any of several directions. At my seminar, for example, I asked attendees to use the R0 model to make predictions about the quantity and experience of applicants for teaching-centric faculty positions. We then compared the predictions to actual job search data.

For me, those data are a mixed bag. The number of applicants per position was lower than I would have guessed. However, it is sobering that even the ad-hoc temporary openings attracted many experienced candidates.

Anyway, I find the R0 analogy useful in several ways.

(A) The R0 analogy underscores that mentors’ trainees are, in some sense, their “children,” i.e., people for whom they bear some responsibility. And that professors, departments, universities, and countries should not take on more children than they can reasonably expect to support.

(B) The rise of the biologist R0 so far above 1 is a sign that our entire training system may be fundamentally unsustainable, as argued by the scientific “dream team” of Alberts et al. (2014).

(C) The focus on a single easy-to-grasp number, R0, helps us contemplate the problems underlying it, as well as possible solutions. For instance, I said “MAY be fundamentally unsustainable” above because a high R0 would be acceptable if most PhDs used their academic training as an intentional springboard to wonderful non-academic careers. However, since most biologists would prefer to stay in academia (Sauermann & Roach 2012), a high R0 is a symptom of a serious problem. Partial solutions, then, might include training fewer PhDs and/or convincing more of us to give more serious consideration to non-academic options before we put all of our eggs in one basket.

And speaking of nascent forms of life….

Analogy #2: The soil seed bank

While I liked the R0 analogy enough to feature it in my UW-BERG seminar, I almost used an alternative analogy suggested by my colleague Cynthia Chang.

The basic idea of the soil seed bank is that soil contains deposits of seeds from many different species, any of which could potentially germinate, but few of which actually do.

So what are the implications of considering newly minted PhDs as “seeds” with potential to “germinate” into full-fledged faculty members?

Well, to start with, most seeds will not ever germinate, an obvious point also illustrated by the R0 analogy. But the soil seed bank analogy can be extended to make several related points.

(A) Germination may occur after a prolonged lag, but most seeds do lose their viability over time. People may hang on as postdocs and as adjunct faculty for quite a while, but after so many years, the odds of making the transition to full-time permanent faculty are quite low. Still, the lack of a firm “expiration date” makes it hard to know when to give up.

(B) Different conditions favor different seeds. Each species of seed has its own optimal germination conditions in terms of moisture, temperature, sunlight, etc. Which seeds actually germinate at a given time depends on local conditions at that time. Similarly, within a diverse crop of youngish biology PhDs, those whose strengths match the current needs of specific departments will be most likely to lay down roots.

(C) Seeds’ success or failure depends strongly on luck. A corollary to (B) is that, as conditions change from year to year, the species that sprout will change as well. If a fire happens to sweep through a given region, fire-resistant seeds will subsequently be favored. If instead the region happens to be hit with, say, a flood, different seeds will instead win the germination sweepstakes. The job-search parallels should be clear: whether a given candidate ultimately blossoms depends not only on their personal robustness, but whether they happen to enter the job market at a time and place that happens to favor their particular strengths.

This last point is often hard for hard-luck applicants to swallow. Words to the effect of “It’s not about you, it’s just an issue of fit,” while well-intended and true, are not necessarily comforting. Having had the persistence to come this far, we figure that if we can just hang in there, we will eventually have our day in the sun.

Indeed, some of us will ultimately be great oaks or sequoias, impressive and enduring, the giants of our fields.

For now, though, we are but tiny vessels of unrealized potential and uncertain fate, weathering harsh environments, hoping against hope for a favorable wind and a soft landing.


Recent poems

December 1, 2016

Favorite Fiddle Tune

When the sundial’s shadow has faded from view —
When the red leaves of autumn are gone —
When your workshop is quiet, and your kitchen is, too,
May your favorite fiddle tune play on!

And I hasten to listen to your voice presently,
While your singing persists, loud and long,
But when the tides lift your body back out to the sea,
May your favorite fiddle tune play on!

Muggle Snuggle

No incantation keeps our stars aligned;
No wizard conjures us to share one mind.
Yet you are mine and, likewise, I am yours
As utterly as Snape was Dumbledore’s.

For Trisha, Who Is Turning 40

Is it time to retire to a spot by the fire?
Are you fed up with slogging and grinding?
Not likely, my friend! But I do spot a trend:
You’re over the hill, but still climbing.

Be willful! Be stubborn! Be bold and unbowed!
May your path remain craggy and winding!
Your ultimate races have yet to be run;
You’re over the hill, but still climbing.

Well, your mom was a fireball up to the end,
And of that we all need no reminding,
For her life-long momentum continues in you;
You’re over the hill, but still climbing.

Yes, you’re just like her, as your dad would concur:
You’re over the hill, but still climbing.

* * * * * * *

Snape and dumbledore