Author Archives: jonwolston

Joey D’s B-3 poured sweet syrup on my soul. Was he up for it.

We’re trying to figure out what to do with him, Mengele confided sotto voce. One bad apple is all it takes. We have to be vigilant in our profession. This must be a dream I thought as I lay dreaming. … Continue reading →

Look, everyone has to make ends meet. I know a dust bunny when I see one as well as the next person. The rest I kept to myself. He was a very cluttered individual. He needed someone to come in, … Continue reading →

Wriggling all over, Yeager presents his black rump for a butt scratch.

The bricks wet already? I thought I had till noon to get some Great Stuff from Adler’s and fill that rotten place in the porch.

We in Troop 28 all know “Dr. D” as our beloved assistant scout master. But many of you probably don’t realize what an extinguished career he had before moving to Rhode Island. Let me complain. Dr. D. landed his very … Continue reading →

So this is when the leaves fall. You would think I would remember but this year is different, the tawny oak leaves stiffer scraping each other on the way down, settling onto the lake like it was warm jello, still … Continue reading →

Male bonding can be mysterious. In Salem on Halloween night I rush to the trunk of my Audi. My pal Drac needs some Fixodent.

Unloading our van in the dark in Ingonish, 2 a.m., the dew the gray porch, Ahab’s madness established beyond doubt, on Big Smokey, the beach rose hedges, anticipating the best, the plum trees redolent.

The woodpile’s shrinking. Dusk before six. Three bitches shake off their wet fur.