Over the weekend I learned that the journal Scoundrel Time wants to publish two of my John Doe poems, so that was good news. Stranger, more disturbing news involved the discovery online of some first-person recollections about my uncle's death in Vietnam. I'll talk about that with you eventually, but I need to organize my thoughts . . . which means not only addressing the fact that I've found an eyewitness description of his death but also exploring some questions: such as, What's the story with this Special Forces organization he was involved with? And why was he away from his own unit and with another one? I will tell you that the incident involved the war's largest number of Green Beret casualties and that it seemed to be part of a mid-year flareup (July-August 1968) of the Tet Offensive.
Like many of you, we're bracing for a March blizzard this week, though Tom and I may be the only people in Portland who are excited. Tom bought me a sled for Valentine's Day, but then we promptly got too sick to go sledding, and then all of the snow melted. So on Tuesday night, I'll be a healthy person riding a sled down a steep seaside hill into the driving snow, and I can't wait.