i don’t dance james brown

Childhood Memories

our stepdad became james brown right before our eyes in the living room. it would normally be after returning home from sportsman inn, the bar next to the creek.


A Requiem For Father’s Day

Childhood Memories

I once told a friend that I didn’t have a real father, that he left when I was two, and that I was raised by my mom and stepfather. She responded, “So, your stepfather is your father?”

Since then I’ve been more aware of how I use the terms “real father” and “stepfather”, and have tried to make an effort of using “father” to show respect and appreciation for his role in my life. In his fifties, our father Joe was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s.



An edited version of Bar Talk 2.

by Daniel Reyes

The gig drew a small crowd. Maybe there were fifty-five or so. Certainly less than what I expected, and I felt a bit embarrassed for Chacho. Just what the hell was he doing playing in this shithole anyway? I wondered what happened to all that money made touring the country over the years. I remember in ’83 he even performed for President Reagan when he visited Texas.