father and son – michael jarmer

On the Ninth Day of 2025. . .

. . .I didn’t feel sad about my son having to fly back to Southern California today until about an hour after I got back home from the airport. Little things irk me. The dogs. The general questions about what to have for dinner. My wife’s questions about a mysterious charge to our bank accountContinue reading “On the Ninth Day of 2025. . .”

#419: Baby’s First Mosh Pit, a Poem for April 14

I lost my 16 year old and his buddy in the crowd. They were making their wayto the stage in the early show throng before the opening act did their thing. I stayed back because I knew better.As soon as the headliner played their first note, there was an immediate surgeforward and the mosh pitContinue reading “#419: Baby’s First Mosh Pit, a Poem for April 14”