CoachWe don't call him "Dad" much. Usually it's Coach. I guess that's because from the time we were first conscious everyone in sight called him by that name. Here's a little literary journalism piece I wrote about our trip to Wisconsin together. As a writer, I guess you 'd call him prolific. Since he retired from full-time tennis, basketball and phys. ed. coaching, he has been writing 3-4 poems a day on a procession of hand-me down Macs that I keep pushing his way. This year we got him online for the first time. My recent archiving of what he's done includes:
Don't know what happened in 1996. Either his muse went on sabbatical or we've missed/lost an entire year. We're still searching. Dad's stuff isn't great literature (yet). But he IS improving. Now that he's cut back on the all caps stuff. Of course, he thinks I'm a little picky. But then... it's my job.... Here's a recent selection from late 2000. I don't have his 2001 stuff yet. There's no shortage. You'll have to hit the back button on your browser to get back to where you once belonged.
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