David Soubly

In the midst of all the Coronavirus stress and uncertainty, I want to tell you a story.

Once upon a time, many years ago, when I was on my way to work, I heard a commercial from a faith-based sponsor. Some of you may recognize this, others won’t. I don’t remember the name of the sponsor.

The commercial didn’t advertise anything. All it did was to explain the concept of the Center of Moments. The Center of Moments is that spot on a ship at sea where all the forces at play meet and are...

One of my favorite poems is Philip Larkin’s “Church Going.”

It begins, “Once I am sure there’s nothing going on, / I step inside, letting the door thud shut.”

This is the way I sometimes return to my home, letting the door thud shut on the world. It’s especially the case when I return from a talk where the speaker has wowed us with the latest in connectivity, machine learning, AI, smart homes, smart cars, smart toilets.

Smart toilets. Honest. There was a smart toilet (costing maybe five times a...

Here’s a story. You’ll have one just like it.

I was in sixth grade, at Howard Elementary School in Dearborn, Michigan.

My sixth grade teacher was Mr. Wilson, a no-nonsense, by-the-book teacher that helped you in your journey from the exploratory fun of elementary school to the rough-and-tumble, hormone-laced experience of junior high.

This was back then, of course. Today, I really have no idea how kids manage to be kids.

Back then, Mr. Wilson taught sixth grade to a 1967 class mostly...

For Thanksgiving, a serving of crows.

I wrote the poem “2020” earlier this year. Its first line:

            It was a season of crows.

While on one of my morning walks this past summer, I encountered a murder(1) of crows, bouncing and talking (2) on a deep green field under the blue sky of a cloudless young day.

I was immediately struck by the contrast of their jet-black bodies against the green. When some of them took to flight, the contrast against the blue was equally dramatic.

As I...

Today we remember Martha. One hundred five years ago, at 1pm on September 1, 1914, Martha passed away.

Who was Martha, and why is her passing important?

For several years, Martha had lived at the Cincinnati Zoo. The last four years, she lived alone. She was the very last of her extended family, the final child of a population that once numbered in the billions.

Martha was a passenger pigeon.

Passenger pigeons once dominated our American skies. We can only estimate their population at its...