Category: Living

Living by Joe WilcoxNov 11, 20148:19 pm

What the Hell is a Biter?

Not long ago, I considered myself still tapped into popular vernacular. I am a people and culture junkie, after all. But today, three barbers showed how clueless and out of touch is this 55 year-old man. I’m not sure which depresses more, the realization or confessing it.

My barber personalizes his workspace with Jack Daniels jars and other signature items described but I couldn’t see. Hey, he takes off my glasses to cut what little hair I have, and my vision blows without them. His coworker in the next chair complained about another guy who comes in to buy hair-cutting supplies and selfies in front of my barber’s chair space. The evidence is on Instagram.

Aspiration by Joe WilcoxNov 11, 20141:21 pm

A Storyteller Returns (Or So I Hope)

One of my favorite bloggers is photographer Carl Rytterfalk, whose voice silenced several years ago. But in a post overnight (in my time zone) he asks: “Am I back?” That’s a good question, which answer is complicated.

“In February 2013 my life changed dramatically with the early birth of my son who was born with the rare and somewhat difficult chromosome disorder named Trisomy 9 mosaic”, he writes about his absence. “Since William was born I’ve been using Facebook instead of rytterfalk.com and I think it should be the other way around. So I’m trying to convince myself that it’s ok for a while to post more from life and when ready—about photography, too”.

People by Joe WilcoxNov 9, 20147:04 pm

A Veteran’s Day Story

I took my father-in-law to IKEA for lunch today. He prefers to eat there, but never on Sunday because the store is so busy. The eatery is by far the most hectic area, with little kids running round and little seating to pick from. He had asked me to choose where to dine, and I decided to challenge the masses. The man also likes a good deal, and the retailer advertised free food for Veterans from November 9 to 11. But we got something better: A cashier’s thoughtfulness.

My father-in-law was 18 years-old when Germany invaded Poland and set World War II in motion. The young man started his active military career in 1943; he already was a reservist because of ROTC. Seventy-one years later, the elder gent is reluctant to discuss his service—and he is no fan of war movies.

Photo by Joe WilcoxNov 9, 201412:30 pm

Tween and Her Mac

I shot this 10 year-old photo (July 2004) with Nikon D70, which is a classic. Among all the digicams ever held in my hands, the the 5MP shooter produced some of the sharpest, and most-satisfying […]

Living by Joe WilcoxNov 9, 201412:04 pm

Sunday Morning Playlist

In another life I was a music deejay. Many years later, my tastes are eclectic and rock/pop punk current. Working on any weekend requires just the right mixtape to flush creativity from aging synapses. Classic […]

Responsibility by Joe WilcoxNov 7, 20144:14 pm

My Uninsured Life

I am supposed to be sitting in a movie theater watching Interstellar. The plan was in place for months. Instead, I write this post, which is commentary on health insurance in America. The two things are strangely connected, if in this or any other universe such seemingly disparate relationships are random. What’s that saying about a butterfly flapping its wings?

Here’s a nut graph, so you can decide whether to read further or stop here: America’s healthcare system is broken. Free-market forces cannot work. The 1945 McCarran-Ferguson Act laid the framework for healthcare monopolies, which nearly 70 years later act like cartels, in defiance of the 1890 Sherman Antitrust Act. The Affordable Care Act raises healthcare costs, while managing the monopolies rather than eliminating them. As such, the free-market forces that should stimulate competition and drive down prices are stymied.

Critters by Joe WilcoxNov 5, 20145:53 pm

The Cats are Better Together

Sharing the cat tree is a huge breakthrough for Cali and Neko.

Critters by Joe WilcoxNov 4, 20147:41 am

Maine Decides Whether to Shoot Bear Like Ducks in a Barrel

On this election day, I long to be back in Maine, so that I could vote on the initiative to ban bear barrels. It’s a practice unfamiliar to me. I grew up in a family of hunters, which killed for sport and food. They tracked the animals, not lured them with sweet throwaways.

I only learned about the referendum this morning, from a news story in my RSS feeds. National Geographic violates Betteridge’s Law of Headlines by asking question: “Should We Bait Black Bears With Doughnuts?” I am embarrassed for being so out of touch with important issues and politics in the Pine Tree State—they matter to family there, and to me. I may be long-time removed, but Maine will always be home. I identity myself as a Mainer, more than by any other measure.

Living by Joe WilcoxNov 2, 20147:42 pm

O Canada, What Say You?

What do two forts share in common? Kaci Hickox, the 33 year-old healthcare worker from Fort Worth, Texas, taking refuge in Fort Kent, Maine. Surely you know of the so-called Ebola nurse and the legal scuffle about quarantining her. As an Aroostook County native born about 70 kilometers (okay, I rounded up) southeast of FK and having traveled widely across the Lone Star State, I know something about the character of both regions. Think independent-mindedness times two, which equals “Don’t tell me what to do”.

The simple story: She volunteered in Sierra Leone, where the disease rages. She returned to the wrong state, New Jersey, which put her in isolation. She fled to one of the most rural and remote areas of the Northeast. Maine’s governor demanded voluntary quarantine. She defied it. A federal judge ruled against the Gov. News reporters who couldn’t find Fort Kent with a Google Map ruined the autumn tourist trade by filling up the only hotel. We all wait to see if she stays symptom free through November 10. Pass the popcorn. The suspense is thicker than a horror flick.

Aspiration by Joe WilcoxNov 2, 20148:50 am

Google Day of the Dead

The Day of the Dead Doodle is so awesome.

Critters by Joe WilcoxNov 1, 201412:57 pm

Meet Cali

On October 20, my daughter’s cat Cali moved into the Wilcox domicile, where she and our other feline Neko slowly, but surely, adapt to one another. The kitty is the second to adopt my now college-age child and chance for some redemption for the first.

I met Cali on a pleasant summer evening in early June. Molly—that’s my daughter—moved into a group house, and I had just dropped off a last load of belongings. As I crossed the street to the car, a slim Tortoiseshell cat approached down the sidewalk. She raised her head to receive pats, just as a San Diego State University senior approached. He and I chatted about education and careers for about 15 minutes. Then we parted from one another and our new feline friend.

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 31, 20145:06 pm

Happy Halloween!

I really miss Maryland once a year. We lived one-a-half-blocks from Perry Street, which transformed into Scary Perry each Halloween. Most every house decked out for the occasion, and trick-or-treaters converged from far and wide […]