On The Fly

One of the great joys of wandering without much of a plan is that the universe occasionally rewards your lack of organization. During my recent visit to Tucson, AZ, Robert and I were strolling through the Annex this afternoon, doing what tourists and newly minted retirees like me have elevated to an Olympic sport: meandering. The Annex is one of those places where every few steps there's another handmade candle, artisan coffee, or vintage object someone rescued from a garage sale and convinced the rest of us was always destined to become art. Then I saw something that genuinely stopped me. A young woman standing quietly behind a manual typewriter. Not a laptop designed to look like a typewriter. Not a quirky Bluetooth keyboard. An honest-to-goodness mechanical typewriter—the sort of machine that once announced every sentence to the entire office with a satisfying clack and enough force to wake nearby pigeons. With an iPhone 16 sitting in my pocket in an age when people write novels...

🎩   In this special episode. How to Un-Work the Old-Fashioned Way It’s 2026! Yes— this is the year! A different kind of start—you feel it right here? No lists! No demands! No fix-all-your-flaws! No “New You by Tuesday!” No rules! No laws! Those resolutions? Bah! Dusty and dry! We’ve tried fixing everything —so let’s ask why. Why rush and correct and improve and compare, When noticing quietly gets you right there ? So here’s a new project—no charts, no clocks, No boxes to check in your mental inbox. It’s bigger than busy and smaller than grand, It’s called Un-Working —now give me your hand! Un-Working’s not quitting or hiding away, It’s setting things down that shout “Hurry! Hey!” The hustle! The bustle! The faster-than-fast! The gotta-win-now or you’re stuck in the past! That’s the work of Un-Working— plop! —set it free! The titles! The labels! The “Look-At-Me!” The crown that kept sliding and pinching your head— You never looked comfy . . . let’s try this instead: Pick up a tel...

I n this episode, Night Before Christmas . . .  (In the spirit of Edgar Albert Guest) I’ve wrestled with the tangled lights the way I always do— With just enough patience left to see the project through. I climb the ladder carefully; the years have taught me how. To take my time with every step and keep a steady brow. We hang the faded ornaments I’ve known since I was small, the chipped, the cracked, the tilted ones—I love them best of all. Santa’s lost a bit of paint, the stars’ leaning right, but oh, it casts a holy glow across the room tonight. The kitchen hums with activity, with laughter, and with cheer, as voices drift like echoes from a long-forgotten year. The floor is strewn with paper scraps, the clock is ticking slow, As Christmas finds its own sweet pace and sets our house aglow. The hallway grows a little still; the lights are dimmed, and low, Small shoes are lined in messy pairs to wait for morning’s snow. The fire's warm, the room is full, the world is deep and wide,...

🎄  Preview of this week's  On the Fly  blog: A Holiday Tribute to Mom. As the holidays hustle with pixels and beeps, the world scrolls along in a smartphone-y sleep. I log off for a moment—just one little minute— To breathe in the past and to sit myself in it. My mind doesn’t wander to faraway places, Or trips full of tickets and new airport faces. Instead, it drifts backward, as memories do, to Cuba, Illinois, where the best moments grew. To a home full of warmth, in the wintry Midwest, Where my mother—dear “Marcie”—put love to the test. With a smile that could melt the most frigid of dawns, and hugs that hung on you like shivering fawns. She came from La Rochelle in France, brave and bright, Across oceans and war shadows, into new light. A town full of strangers soon felt like her own, And her courage built up the foundation of home. “Oh yes, we know Marcie!” the locals would say— “It's Doc Ball’s French lady! She brightens the day!” She cleaned, and she cooked, and sh...

Oh, the thanks I could think, and the thanks I could say! For the wonderful people who brightened my day. The first one is Lori, my wife, sweet and true, Who knows just the thing and knows just what to do. She whipped up a feast with a smile and a sigh, With corn on the cob and a steak cooked “On the Fly!” My neighbor, Steve, with a mischievous gleam, Said, “No fence work today! No work, it would seem! You’ll paint with some water, some colors so bright, And sign your new painting with all of your might!" I laughed and I said, “But I don’t know that skill! I’ll slap on some paint and see what sticks still!” Then there’s my friends on the Facebook machine, The best group of readers that ever was seen! They read all my blogs and they hear my podcasts, They send all their cheer that's built to last! And Billy and Linda. A Snoopy card in the mail. A wonderful surprise that was sure to prevail! From very good friends, a delightful new tale ! But the thanks didn't stop, no, not...

In this episode, Oh, the Sights You'll See! When the Clouds Flee! Oh, the May Gray and June Gloom, what a plight! For sky-watchers longing for stars in the night! Your telescopes sighing, all dusty and sad, "Oh, where are the heavens? This weather is bad!" The California coast, with its marine layer so thick, Plays hide-and-seek games, a mischievous trick! But good news is coming, as summer draws near, A cosmic grand show, to banish all fear! That misty old blanket, it loves to entwine, Our sunny, bright days, with a cool, foggy shine. But nature, you see, has a plan, it is true, Building anticipation for me and for you! For lo and behold, as the days stretch so long, And summer air warms, where the clouds don't belong, The core of the Galaxy, vibrant and grand, Will soon grace our skies, all across the whole land! With billions of stars, and with nebulae bright, And dark dusty lanes, a magnificent sight! From Carlsbad and Vista, when twilight fades, The Milky Way...