C.K. Dexter Haven
- Title
- Person
- Bio
- I write. I read. I work. I eat. I live in a house. I sleep. I wake with the thought of coffee.
I like makers and doers. I like thinkers who write. I like makers who think and doers who write. People who make/think/write/do but who also dance/laugh/play/falter are my favorite kind of people.
I'm pretty down with life being messy. It explains a lot when all the stars don't align. I believe in Random. Random explains a lot too. Like, why good things happen to Dick Cheney and bad things happen to real human beings. Please don't write "everyday" when you mean "every day." I have a doggy crate full of grammar peeves, and that's one of them. Please also don't tell me it's colloquial and now acceptable to use "their" instead of "his" or "her." It might be true, but I'm not yet ready to accept it.
MY RECENT COMMENTS
- “Wonderful. All of it.
Yay for good husbands and
happy
grandchildren! It's a
thank…”
4:51PM - “Thank you Dennis. This
is balm... soul salve, and I
didn't
know I needed it
until…”
2:53PM - “My academic advisor, a
Medievalist, always told me
"fuck" was
Old
Engli…”
12:09PM - “Thank you for being
here, Pilgrim. Yours is one of
the
kindest/calmest voices
to…”
9:30AM - “Excuse my French...
Fucking Brilliant!
On
behalf of my grandson, the
almost five-…”
9:20AM
C.K. Dexter Haven's Links
Live-Blog Reading the Harper's Index
Thank You, Beautiful Young Men and Women
Letters to My Sister
My sister, Norma, moved out of the house and clear across the country in the fall of 1973, just after she turned eighteen. Her departure was abrupt. At least it felt abrupt to those of us she left behind. But, from more than thirty years of hindsight, it seems probable that… Read full post »
To my kid on his birthday... (Updated with Cake!)
I have a son we refer to as the invisible child, the child who surfaces occasionally just to prove his existence. I've written about this child before. He is the one who… Read full post »
Unless Your Ass is on Fire, and Other Office Rules
#1. Unless your ass is physically (not metaphorically) on fire, you are not more important than the person who is currently trying to talk to me. Take a look behind you. Is your ass burning? No? Then wait your turn. Please. Can you see the person in front of you? Concentrate...… Read full post »
Son of My Dreams
The other day I sat down to write a snappy little piece I thought I'd call "Sending Your Son off to Jail: A Step-by-Step Guide." Time had passed since my husband and I had started the judiciary ball rolling, and I figured that four years was enough of a cushion… Read full post »
A Letter to the Department of Research and Development
To Whom it may concern:
I appeal to your department with some suggestions for the improvement of the Human Design. Please note: This is not a solicitation. I do not represent a company or product. I am only human. Please also note: I do not purport that the areas… Read full post »
My Parents Sent me to College and All I Got was This Degree
From birth, it seems, we have been served the mythology built around our founding fathers, mothers, explorers and inventors. In grade school we read books and wrote reports about those folks. They were glorified as brave and fearless doers. They did extraordinary things. They made things that revolut… Read full post »
Let's talk about health care... please.
This past January, my twenty-two-year-old son had his testicle removed. He had testicular cancer, and was treated with radiation every weekday after work, if he didn't feel too awful to work, for four weeks. If not for a recent insurance provision in my state, my son would not have been covered… Read full post »
I Paid My Tuition, and I Want My Bottled Water!
This past semester I noticed a student, we’ll call her “Meghan,” who had developed a routine whereby she’d slip through the faculty/staff mail room, into the faculty/staff break room, and walk out with a cup of water from the bottled water dispenser. I saw her do it once, then… Read full post »
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