Lon Casler Bixby is a published author: Fiction, Poetry, Humor, & Comic Books. He's also an award-winning photographer whose work has been featured in magazines, art & coffee table books, & in Art Galleries throughout the world.
I guess this has to do with getting older, but I like to be in bed sometime between 9 and 10 p.m., curl up under heavy blankets, open a good book, and read a few chapters before drifting off to sleep, usually by 11 p.m.
My dad came to visit me last night. But it’s probably not what you think. I live in Burbank, California – almost thirty years now. My dad lives 3000 miles away in East Greenwich, Rhode Island. He’s been there for almost all of his eighty-eight years. He’s a great guy. Loving. Caring. Good sense of humor, and always leaves people with a smile. But he’s also the kind of dad that will seldom call, much less come for a visit.
Wow! Where to begin? For weeks, before the feature film “Cuties” had been released, I was seeing lots of triggered “Karens & Kens” freaking out over the description of the movie and its trailer; a movie they haven’t even seen yet; a movie they probably will not see for themselves; a movie where they base their rants solely on the rambling opinions of others; a movie that they have already made up their minds is the worst thing on God’s green earth; a movie that… Well, you get the idea.
With camera in hand, I was out the door and leaving California on a cross-country road trip to the east coast, in particular, Rhode Island and environs where I have family and friends I wanted to visit.
I am not a person who likes confrontations—not at all. As a matter of fact, I go out of my way to completely avoid them whenever possible. But sometimes you just can’t.
QUIET NO BREEZE NO MOVEMENT NO SOUND I CANNOT HEAR MY BREATHING I CANNOT HEAR MY HEART BEATING I HAVE NEVER HEARD SUCH SILENCE
That smile that made my cheeks hurt… Did you ever just meet someone and know that they were the one? The one you’ve been waiting for?
Last night was difficult, to say the least. I like to be in bed early. Nine, ten o’clock at the latest. Relax. Read, and drift peacefully off to sleep. But at about quarter till nine last night, I made the mistake of looking in my fridge. Empty.