Creative Writing
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Old(er): An Epic Journey
Part Two “Eat Life like you’re starving. You may feel full at the end of the day, but damn, it tasted good.” antonio pedro ruiz I remember the moment I touched down at LAX Los Angeles Airport like it was… Continue reading
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America is Broken
Video evidence is everywhere. Facebook. X. Especially X. Instagram. TikTok. I’ve even seen evidence on Truth Social, a Trumpian fountain of irreconcilable conflict between reality and fantasy. You know things are horrible when the liars are lying about lying.The videos… Continue reading
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Instructions For Making and Using an Ax Handle
An Ax Handle, also called a haft, has five parts: the Eye, the Shoulder, the Belly, the Throat, and the Knob. ALL we wanted was to be served lunchat the whites-only lunch counterInside a F.W. Woolworthfive-and-dime store In Jacksonville, Florida,… Continue reading
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A Yankee Baseball Game
My annual tribute to my father, Antonio “Tony” Ruiz. My father never took me to a Yankees game when I was a kid. That was the secret burden of resentment I carried for a long time. At some point before… Continue reading
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I Ain’t No Superman
Man, I can’t catch a break. Hard living. First, my knee replacements. Both knees. Then, my recent brush with life-changing trauma, a stroke. It reminded me of my last body-slamming event: a blocked heart and the pacemaker implanted in my… Continue reading
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The Cult of Hate
“When fascism comes to America, it will be wrapped in the flag and carrying a cross.“—Sinclair Lewis It is a faint memory, but it’s there. At some point in my childhood, I was taught to beware of Russian people, because… Continue reading
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Four Months
Today marks four months since my mini-stroke. “We must be willing to let go of the life we planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” Joseph Campbell It seems so long ago, but it’s been… Continue reading
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The News Is Driving Us into A Dark Hole: A Flashback
This was originally posted on November 8, 2021. As you can see, not much has changed since then, except that they’ve gotten worse. I have a daily ritual: I wake up and organize my day. I scan both local and… Continue reading
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The Great Escape
In a god we trustWhen I was ten years old, as I was praying during Mass performing my duties as an altar boy in the basement church St. Rita of Cascia, kneeling before the raised altar, the gold cross hanging… Continue reading
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Smoke ‘em If You Got ‘em
The first time I saw an American joint was when some guy in the high school gym asked me to pass one along to another guy on the other side of meThat guy seemed awfully anxious to get it like… Continue reading









