Author: BuddyCushman

Clutter

It’s 7:35 Friday night. I worked for a youth organization once named 735. Back in Melrose, Massachusetts. Lot of my changes there, the North Shore, all those kid outfits, all the roles I took, all the way up to Director level over and over again. We got good work done a lot of the time,…

By BuddyCushman 03/20/2021 1

Avaians

Oh, to be a better bird. That’s how I flew out from the bed this morning. And why. Rushing, gushing these ancient joints lubed with a joy of still can do, here I go, these wings, out beyond the rapacious reaper’s ruin. Ha! Dumb thing, no match for the avaians. Inbound dream, outbound skeedaddle, and…

By BuddyCushman 03/18/2021 0

Ducks

I heard the hoo-ing of a dove while I was sitting in zazen this afternoon. It was my second sitting of the day, the first at my usual 4:54 am awake alone in the sleeping house, straight back chair with attached cushion in the dark living room. The second this afternoon, in the studio, blessed…

By BuddyCushman 03/17/2021 0

Just this

My wife transferred me $1400 from our joint account to my personal ‘Shares’ account today, free government money, earned being a good citizen. There’s a dark grey rabbit hanging out in our yard pretty much all the time these days. My son in Missouri Paypaled me a bunch of money I’d lent him back in…

By BuddyCushman 03/17/2021 2

Take the Bench

Back in ’06 and ’07 I worked for an outfit called Walden House. This was in San Francisco, most of my time running the adolescent boys’ residence in The Lower Haight – ‘214’ – and some of it at the girls’ residence in South San Francisco – ‘PSK’. Walden House was a California state-wide organization…

By BuddyCushman 03/15/2021 4

August ’58

It’s August 1958 and I’m nine years old. Ginsberg is back from Europe, living lower east side New York, and Ferlinghetti is plunked down in the forests of Big Sur. My dick is getting hard, for the first time ever, once in a while and I dig that. It has dawned on me that, at…

By BuddyCushman 03/12/2021 0

Good Timing

I feel I have been trending in the right direction for some time now, on a psychic cellular level, good orderly direction, intertwined among body, soul, and the individual me of me. Something like a to thine own self be true. And digging it. Body, 72-plus years on the odometer, and mind (all those minutes…

By BuddyCushman 03/11/2021 0

Koan #2

I have this incredible group of friends, their number growing weekly, who converse with me regularly and are all dead. Se la vie. My ongoing corporeal walking around peeps, not so much. I don’t hear from them and it ain’t me (Babe). I make calls, leave messages send texts send emails greeting cards, words of friendship support…

By BuddyCushman 03/10/2021 0

Hundred Thousand Wing Flips

There were small knotholes in some of the old boards, the holes oblong shape, and slivers of sunlight would stream through onto the barn’s dirt floor. I was staring trance-like at one of those lit up areas right when I had my first ever true sexual experience, with a girl named Cindy Mawaka. She was…

By BuddyCushman 03/09/2021 3

Baby, a Letter

(Monday weather) Rushed to get a letter in mailbox early this morning before regular Monday spiritual retreat. Banged the letter out yesterday (Sunday) afternoon. I have received only one letter (Keith, LA) in the last year. Oh, sadness. What happened to letters? That is a koan, my koan – What happened to letters? I will…

By BuddyCushman 03/08/2021 0

Banger oh Banger

Banger oh Banger. This is me (this me), I’m sure Walt Whitman approves, my exuberant self, especially with these vows of silence and heavy noticing. My pal Milky Dent has a belief and always believes it’s about compassion, which he and his posse of energy minstrels chase hourly. It’s the compassion, Brah (they always say).…

By BuddyCushman 03/05/2021 0

Giving Normal the Finger

Well here we go Thursday, my mind electric and I’m thinking evermore in the place and space of ‘just this’. “This.” My complete sentence. Yeah, I’m reading another book about Zen, an occasionally interesting memoir, but the spectacular nuggets, didn’t the early forty-niners note just a tiny gleam of gold under flowing waters – and…

By BuddyCushman 03/04/2021 0

Scrambled Kiss

Tuesday: Antwon Alazar is sitting alone in his barber shop. The sign out front says “Antwon’s Hair Cutting”. Old school. Antwon is a white dude, just so you know in case you were surmising otherwise. Which explains the fact of his favorite meal being scrambled eggs. Antwon’s a “keep it simple” guy and creating a…

By BuddyCushman 03/02/2021 3

Velvets

It is said the Buddha’s final words were, “Be a lamp unto this world.” Which is, conceivably, alike the spiritual suggestion, “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.” Who knows. Myself, I lean toward the Velvet Underground’s, “I’ll be your mirror, reflect who you are.” And did you know I share a…

By BuddyCushman 03/01/2021 0

Tell me where the chimes sound

I personally cannot wait to get to the ocean again. Portland sucks. One hundred miles away. I cannot wait for the fresh, cool snappy ocean air, right there, right there, fill my lungs with that oh so much wonder. How much wonder do we note, accrue in our minds and who knows your answer, your’s…

By BuddyCushman 02/26/2021 0

Permissions for Joy

Rat traps, rat traps – I don’t believe there will ever be enough rat traps. So the mind tumbles down the basement stairs, no surprises, no promises, just another day, which should go without saying “Thank you God” though otherwise no promise that any of it will get any better. Not all better – even…

By BuddyCushman 02/25/2021 1

Angels

(Last week’s weather.) On the third day without electric, without heat, Wednesday, with all those taken-for-granted slices-of-life missing, my wife’s handyman called, early in the morning, and asked if we needed firewood. In fact my wife had decided the night before – the house growing colder each day – to light an early fire and…

By BuddyCushman 02/24/2021 1

Today…….verse…

(Last week’s weather.) A Poem The wife sometimes frets, suffers, fleeing from joy. I take coleman-stove coffee, surely of the wife’s skill, none of mine, to the reading recliner, ancient appearance, bought well-used upon entry to these Northwests (now lit here only by day) – I feel wild with joy, oh, dear sweet coffee and…

By BuddyCushman 02/23/2021 0

Shine in the Dark

(Last week’s weather.) During the recent power outage we piled seven blankets and comforters on the bed. I crawled under that warming weight at 6:36 the first night, so very early against the cold, but my wife came and rescued me from my hiding. I returned to the living and made charcoal drawings by battery-lamp…

By BuddyCushman 02/22/2021 1

First Thing (Friday)

Nearly the first thing I do every morning is look at the rat traps. I like it when they’re empty. Who wants to see death first off? Not me. Then that’s over and the rest of the day proceeds. On its own sweet time, and that ‘time’ thing is a bit nebulous since of course…

By BuddyCushman 02/12/2021 1

Just Desert

(A vision) I pictured myself, earlier, wandering through a desert scene, Nevada likely, a quarter mile off the 15, talking out loud to no one there, trying, really trying, to have a dialogue with some God. Pretty much any God would do. Something wise and just, ancient, or maybe freshly brand new today, mother father…

By BuddyCushman 02/11/2021 2

All My Changes

There is a contest today here on the Couch Surfing at 70 Blog, an oldie kind of “Name That Tune” contest. You ready? Following is one line from a popular song back there in the past, perhaps as recent as 2018, possibly earlier. You will win this contest by correctly identifying the name of the…

By BuddyCushman 02/11/2021 3

Keep the Faith

In the 60’s and in the 70’s you’d often hear someone say to someone else, or hear someone say to you, or hear yourself saying to someone this: Keep the Faith. Keep the Faith. They are an interesting trio of words. Suggestion? Command? Prayer? Encouragement? Blessing? Hope? Soul connection? Some? All? I can hear those…

By BuddyCushman 02/10/2021 2

Easy Like Thursday Evening

It’s funny that here just after 8pm I just said to myself, “Well, I didn’t do a thing today”, and yet the facts would bear out that I was busy doing “stuff” and some of it real “important stuff” from the time I pulled myself up from the meditation chair just after 5am until maybe…

By BuddyCushman 02/05/2021 1

Nutty Buddy

“The monkey may be off my back, but the circus is still in town.” I like that saying/description/self-evaluation and most days it fits just right in here. You know……..in here. I woke this morning feeling as if aliens had transported into the bedroom the middle of last night and sucked the brains from my head.…

By BuddyCushman 02/03/2021 0

Rejoice In It

Let me set the scene. It’s the summer of 1987, around then, on the central east coast of Florida – specifically the town of Edgewater, about 20 miles north of Cape Canaveral. Most Monday through Friday afternoons would find me sitting in a small clubhouse on a side street off US 1, there with a…

By BuddyCushman 02/03/2021 2

Monday Mateus

It is so interesting to wonder, for me anyway, where ideas come from. Not their source, their place and time and terrain of origination. Assume they exist and all those categories can be explained, can be mined for their facts. No, I’m talking about the “out of the blue” quality of ideas showing up. I’m…

By BuddyCushman 02/02/2021 0

Friday Way Approximations

5 a.m. Meditation 7 a.m. Morning Pages 9 a.m. – Zoom meeting 10 a.m. – Finished one book, began another 11 a.m. – Long walk through the Hood Noon – Mailed “Milky Dent” and Greeting Card to San Fran 1 p.m. – Coffee and heavy reading 2 p.m. – Electric trim beard, hair….shower 3 p.m.…

By BuddyCushman 01/30/2021 2

Times

I entered the Fred Meyer grocery store just after 8:15 this morning, holding a shopping list of weekly foods for my son Spenser – who was home asleep in a warm bed. In addition to the shopping list, I had in my long, hand-me-down coat left pocket a rag soaked in bleach, zipped in a…

By BuddyCushman 01/29/2021 4

Wednesday – Rosy Redux

Early this morning I was reading the ‘Preface’ Italo Calvino wrote for his book “The Path to the Spiders’ Nests”. The book was originally published in 1947 and this preface written 17 years later, in ’64. He had gone back twice in those intervening years and made substantial changes to the book, adding here and…

By BuddyCushman 01/27/2021 0

The Pieces I Am, Too

This morning early, up there in the living-room recliner, I finished reading Toni Morrison’s “The Bluest Eye”, the paperback with her 1993 Afterword. My first thought, closing the book, was to run down here to the basement and gather every unsold copy of the books I have written and not sold and set fire to…

By BuddyCushman 01/26/2021 5

Any Given Day

I was running a tad slow earlier this morning, before the light of day, before the call of chickens down the street, before even the mile-away peacocks. Sort of casual, I was, and digging it, all the ambiance and evidence of abundance and ways to find small joys, delight, within my own creations and expanding…

By BuddyCushman 01/25/2021 0

Twists in the Road

This morning, sitting in the mauve, living-room recliner, sipping hot coffee, I found myself slipping back through the time and times of my life – these 72 years – and it came to me I had experienced four moments during all that time where causes and conditions, a specific event or two leading the way,…

By BuddyCushman 01/23/2021 2

Daily Weather

Posts here at ‘Couch Surfing at 70′ have been few and far between the last number of months, a psychic break from the one-after-another 2020 ’30:30’ timed-writing blurbs which morphed into the bulk of “The Files of Milky Dent”, that book ultimately taking most of my writing energy within the process of editing and revising.…

By BuddyCushman 01/22/2021 0

A Coffee with Bruce

Wilson Yang rang me up Thursday morning, asking me about Bruce Sylvia. Do you remember Bruce Sylvia, you class of ’67, Wareham gateway to Cape Cod, Massachusetts kids? My across-the-street neighbor? The call got me thinking. Also writing. ….Letter to Bruce S from your Brah across the street…. Bro!!! – Man, long time no see.…

By BuddyCushman 01/15/2021 0

Checking Out

2020 – “I Think I Prefer They Die” I have hurried to the mirror. For a consultation. How much beast, I wonder at the glass, Do I allow its freedom? And will drugs help again? Not so much influence, politic, go joining, Swizzle weary threats – Under the influence I cannot Remember where I hid…

By BuddyCushman 01/12/2021 0

Quietly Howling

“The Universe is a new flower.” – Allen Ginsberg What he wrote, the Universe being a new flower, in response to a severe criticism in the press regarding one thing or another he’d published, or something he and Jack Kerouac wrote, or something they said, or maybe it was just about who they were. Living…

By BuddyCushman 12/31/2020 0

It Might Be Dos Equis

(Blogger’s note: Another story submitted by my good pal and surely up-and-coming published writer Milky Dent. I’d say this one is pretty much straight fiction, except all the stuff which isn’t – and I’d like to remind you that I have edited and also written the Foreword for Milky’s first ever book – “The Files…

By BuddyCushman 12/16/2020 0

Live the Way I Want

I left Massachusetts due directly to normal average daily winter temperatures, for instance 25 F, though I’m fairly sure even without what one might determine a classical education in the sciences, it’s a tad, wee bit colder on the surface of Jupiter, but right here if you go back to the act of yanking as…

By BuddyCushman 12/11/2020 1

Waking Up Brings Possibilities

(Blogger’s note: What follows is a guest piece for the Blog written by my long-time friend Milky Dent. In fact it was a few months back when Milky phoned and asked me if I’d consider writing a “Foreword” for his upcoming book – tentatively to be titled “The Files of Milky Dent”. I said I’d…

By BuddyCushman 12/06/2020 0

The Return of Nolan James (a 30:30 Report)

(Blogger’s note: Sheriff Nolan James is a recurring character in your Blogger’s forthcoming collection of supernatural/sci-fi tales, “Collected Strays”, due Spring 2021. Making this something of a sneak preview.) Oh, vast nonsense, you trickle through electrical hops and skips there in the old noggin’, slipstream consciousness drooling from either ear, who knows, maybe they take…

By BuddyCushman 11/30/2020 1

Friday Morning, California

There are hangovers and then there are hangovers. This morning it was one of the latter, the big old super-duper crawl to the bathroom, merry-go-round reality, grasp the bowl, tear at abused stomach muscles and wonder if seven cups of coffee and half a three-day bagel just maybe can return this sorry excuse for a…

By BuddyCushman 11/22/2020 0

The Basement

Jasper Silva (Kelly’s cousin) eyed the disaster which was the basement/cellar of the rooming house into which he had recently sunk well-earned cash as a new roomie, a renter of a room, his on the second floor over on the right side of the building when the building was viewed from the street, making it…

By BuddyCushman 11/17/2020 0

Doses of Ramble (Vegetables)

Some 50 minutes after sitting against the living-room wall, the bloody Mary been drunk, I began to stop seeing the world. But I found my palm quite interesting. Very interesting. I raised my right hand below my face and looked down at the palm. It did not move. My eyes did not move. I did…

By BuddyCushman 11/08/2020 0

Jenny, Jenny

“Each individual we meet during the course of our day is at any given moment most likely emerging from a state of depression, is already in a state of depression, or is just about to enter a state of depression. A sensitive teacher always keeps that in mind.” – Eknath Easwaran Kind of depressing –…

By BuddyCushman 09/20/2020 7

Trifecta’s Dream

I have this friend, her name is Trifecta Sanders and this in case you’re wondering is her genuine birth certificate got it at birth celebrated every birthday name, turns out her grandfather on Dad’s side was big on and with and for and about the ponies – you lookin’ for Harry, check the track –…

By BuddyCushman 09/02/2020 1

More LoLo (30:30)

LoLo Reynolds did what she does and dropped the cushion directly in front of the old beater couch and followed with dropping her knees onto the cushion and leaned her arms and elbows and wrists and edges of her palms on the couch and had her fingers intertwined in what could be considered a somewhat…

By BuddyCushman 08/31/2020 0

Couch Surfing at 70 Vacay

Three final 30 minute 30 second “Story” posts will appear here in the Blog these next three days – Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. Thereafter this Blog will go silent for an extended period of time. Your poster is and has always been grateful for the readers here, and their occasional comments. And hey – Stay…

By BuddyCushman 08/30/2020 0

The Big Whacky

This is what gets called “The Big Whacky”, a lovingly way to describe our get-together every Tuesday night down in the Methodist church basement which we have rented for thirty-five dollars a month and where we gather to recollect fun stories and possibly mythologies of revolutionary acts and behaviors, well maybe they get termed guerilla…

By BuddyCushman 08/25/2020 1