A Serious Man

I just watched the Coen brothers' newest film A Serious Man. It was excellent. As is the case with all of the Coens' work, there's a lot to ponder, and I'd like to watch this one again. As I watched Larry Gopnik try to make sense of the events unfolding in his life, I couldn't help but think of the trials of Job.

A man asks God: Why
is this happening to me?
The answer? Silence.

Shy Spring

I know, I know: it's not very original to keep marveling about the strange weather we're having this El Niño year. But I can't help it! It's been kind of weird. Today it was 80-some degrees and felt like summer, though it's still technically winter (not that I'm complaining).

Shy Spring forgot her
lines and yielded the stage to
Summer (an over-
achiever if there ever
was one), who was glad
to entertain us.

Little Earthquakes

I found out on the news this morning that the little temblor I felt was a 4.4 magnitude earthquake, at 4:04 AM. Wow, now that's what I call precision.


The rattle of doors
and windows wakes me at four
in the morning. I
sit up and listen to the
darkness. Intruder?
With a sigh of relief I
realize that it’s
just an earthquake. I pull
up the covers and sleep.

For Schuyler, on his 16th Birthday


Only a few years ago
when you were a skinny little kid
just learning to surf
your dad would give your board a shove
at precisely the right moment
so you could jump to your feet
and ride the wave toward the beach
in a wide, wobbly stance.
I would point my board at the shore
and watch you fall and disappear in the foam,
counting one-one thousand, two-one thousand,
until I saw your head pop back up.
One day, in bigger surf
when you were trying to make your way
through the breaking waves
only to be tumbled again and again
in the whitewater
I realized that I was holding my breath—
as if somehow I could will you the oxygen in my lungs.
He’ll be alright, your dad said
and of course you were.
Before our eyes
you grew tall and strong and broad-shouldered;
your sweet, apple-cheeked face
became angular and handsome.
You began to ride bigger and bigger waves,
to surf before school, after school, all summer long,
paddling confidently into surf that I couldn’t negotiate.
Not long ago
I paddled out a little behind you.
You stroked smoothly through the water
duck-diving easily through the incoming waves.
This time I was the one struggling
and as you called back
Mom, are you ok?
I knew that you could breathe on your own.

Hike

Two women hiked toward me
on the trail, water bottles in hand.
As they approached
and then passed me,
the older one in the hat
was saying forcefully
in a clear voice
Well I’ve read that book and I’ve studied
what all the other religious traditions say
about personal growth
and what I’ve found—
at which point I turned my head
hoping to hear what she had found
but then we were too far apart
and her voice was lost on the wind

Jean-Paul's

At a small café
in a nondescript row of shops
on Pacific Coast Highway
there is an ill-tempered Frenchman
who is likely to ignore you
insult you
or kick you out
for taking too many napkins
from the dispenser
but still you go back
again and again
for his coffee, made only one way—
dark and bracing, with a
sloosh of cream—
and sometimes
if he’s made them
little almond tarts
with a crisp buttery crust
and moist center