Friday, November 19, 2010


For those of you who follow the BFZ regularly (all three of you) I want you to know that posting is going to be kind of spotty over the next couple of weeks. My brother, John, is getting married TOMORROW to my good friend, Lisa Richard, and the whole family has flown in from the eastern seaboard. So, to make a long story short, I am apologizing in advance for the lack of posting during the next couple of weeks.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Sunday, November 14, 2010


"I found a wild woman and took her as my wife.
She'd been living in the woods, a wild sort of life.
She was straight and brown just like the pines-
Her hair a wild tangle of vines.
I bought my wild wife a bed,
But she preferred the ground instead,
And the clothes I bought her at the store-
She threw about and never wore.
She walked the streets like a hunted thing,
Or maybe she was a-hunting-
With girls like her it's hard to say
If they are predator or prey,
But to be safe I thought it wise
To tell the guys, "Avert your eyes."


If November were a color it would be brown. Perhaps, it is not quite so brown as March or early April, but it follows October like an ugly Sister, and looks all the browner for it. By comparison it cannot help but appear dreary, monochromatic and glum. The naked trees, the blackened leaves, and the cold, metallic water speak of an in-between place. November is in limbo between falling leaves and falling snow. Falling snow is preferable.

Thursday, November 11, 2010


The BFZ would like to extend a heartfelt "thank you" to our nation's veterans for their service to the country.

Tuesday, November 9, 2010


so I will create this as a separate post, which will allow you to comment on the poll. Here is the comment thread up to this point;

The Fredericksons commented thusly-

I was greatly intrigued by your poll. However, I found it very hard to vote. Why did you not specify who was hurt? Me or the groom? It matters significantly. This is quite the loaded scenario. I will be closely following to see how the BFZ followers vote.

Steve commented thusly-
If I understand this hypothetical correctly, several of your readers would abandon a beloved fiancée if a tragic accident rendered conventional sex impossible. This is a repulsive moral choice.

To which I replied thusly-

Explain yourself, Steve Maxon. As anyone who knows me well can attest, your opinion carries much weight with me and I will listen with receptive ears.

I do have to point out though that nothing was ever mentioned about abandoning anyone. Not going through with a marriage is not entirely the same thing as abandonment, especially in light of this scenario. What is a marriage without sex? (Please note-In the scenario I make no distinction between conventional intercourse or otherwise.) Visualize marriage without sex- Two close roommates with pooled resources. That is not the fullness of what that experience ought to be, and if no vows have been made I think I would make as gracious an exit as possible. After one has promised before God and witnesses "until death do us part," than you better man up and be the best darn spouse you can be for the duration. Doing so as enxpression of love to your spouse as well as to God, but no such vows or obligation fetters the decision of a single person. You should experience the fullness of what marriage can be. You should not march like a martyr into a life of unrequited passion and dutiful cohabitation.

I think the decision not to marry would be gut-wrenching and difficult, but ultimately morally defendible.

So there, now you're up to speed. Comment away my fellow citizens of the BFZ. Or don't. Whatever.


Who will win? My money is on JT.


At the corner of Alvarez and Sunset sat a shuttered and forgotten furniture store. At least that’s how it appeared to Steven Welcome who looked on from the air-conditioned comfort of his BMW. A poster with the name of a commercial real estate agent and a phone number were plastered prominently on the front door of the place. Steven produced a pad of paper and wrote down the name and number.

Floor to ceiling glass windows ran the length of the storefront facing Alvarez Street. They wrapped around the corner and continued along Sunset before coming to an asphalt parking lot in the rear of the store. Broken glass sparkled uniformly across the surface of the parking lot. Plastic bags, fast-food packaging, and such had been deposited by the wind and collected into its corners. A homeless man slept in the skinny shade next to the building. A heaped shopping cart stood nearby.

The furniture store was surrounded on all sides by night clubs, bars and restaurants. As Steven took in the scene, the corner looked competely deserted. Alvarez and Sunset was the sort of place that came alive after the sun went down. Memories of the corner were always bathed in a purple glow as if cast from a neon light. On most nights. music and revelers would spill out into the streets and cars filled every available parking space. Cruisers rolled slowly past as groups of people, smiling and dressed to impress, laughed and made their way from one establishment to the next. Others walked alone with shoulders hunched. Throngs of people, slightly warm around the edges and following after various appetites, were drawn to the scene by night, but by day the place was all but deserted. The old furniture store looked entirely out of place among its sexy neighbors.

“This must have been a different sort of neighborhood at one time,” thought Steven to himself. “I wonder what Aunty wants with this place.”

Friday, November 5, 2010

I sat with you once in my boat. Remember that? We sat in the middle of the lake, way, way out. It was well past midnight as I recall. There was no wind, and no moon to speak of either- just the dripping oars, and my shoes scuffing the aluminum.

The shore was a perfect field of black. Remember? And when the train rounded the bend, it was like a prick of light in the upper left-hand corner, which grew and grew until I sat in its flickering light and its rumble interrupted our talk.

After it passed I prayed the question.
You know the one.

It was the same question I asked that night behind the counter of the Econo Lodge- just me, you and the ticking clock. I prayed the question then too, and you answered me. Remember?

Thursday, November 4, 2010

BEARDS OF IDYLLWILD- Special Halloween Edition

This past Sunday night, Halloween, Sarah and I took the kids into town for the annual Halloween shindig in the middle of town. There were some amazing beards on display, which, of course, I photographed. I want you to know though that there is one beard here in the San Jacinto Mountains that has so far eluded my camera. It has become my Moby Dick, and I will not rest until I have posted his bearded visage like a trophy in the paneled halls of the BFZ. It is the longest, fullest, most hillbilly looking thing you have ever seen. It's wild. I think it must have taken this man decades to grow, but everytime I have encountered him I did not have my camera handy. I will be patient like a good hunter. I will frequent his haunts- smokey diners, parking lots, and the town dump. I will bide my time until the mighty stag wanders into the sights of my camera.  "Click!" Gotcha!!!

 Having said that, here are some of the more famous bearded personalities from Idyllwild. "The parrot guy."
 The "hang outside of the Kettle guy."

 I don't know this guy, but I love the pipe, and I also like that the beard is well kept. A lot of the beards up here look like their owners simply don't care about appearances, but this sort of beard looks respectable. It's a fine specimen, no?
Chris Fourroux, owner of the Higher Grounds Coffee shop in town and all around good guy.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010


"He said to me something like 'Isn't my costume amazing?' and I said 'Ish."
Teenage girl dressed as a rabbit to two other teenage girls dressed as a fairy and a witch respectively.

"I'm gonna be so fat!"
Obese juvenile female, approximately 11 or 12 years, old, dressed as some kind of ghastly ghoul, commenting on how much candy she was consuming.

"You already are fat!"
Insensitive juvenile female, also 11 or 12 years old and dressed as a hershey's kiss, in response to the above comment.

"Shut up!"
The aforementioned obese juvenile female.

"Thank you for your service to our country, young man."
An elderly  man to a youngster, probably 8 or 9 years old, who was dressed as a soldier.