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4/18/03 - A note from Neil Rubenking

I walked into a bookstore here in Davis and saw a lineup of books by Bukowski. For no precise reason, I felt the need to look up Philip Whalen; I hadn't thought about him in some time. I suppose it wasn't too surprising to find that he had died last year, but sad. My internet search led me to your site, where I noticed the discussion of One of the folks behind that site is a good friend of mine, coming over for dinner Saturday before he returns to England. His daughter and mine are best friends. I helped him slightly when some opportunist snagged the domain and ripped off his content, adding commercial crap.

Just interesting!

Go to and enter David Chadwick. Mostly not about you, but the end of the list is almost like a poem:

david chadwick is also recommended
david chadwick is a biography of the late founder of the san francisco zen center and
david chadwick is institute university of
david chadwick is the author of crooked cucumber
david chadwick is back from his summer sabatical and is fired up
david chadwick is here as well
david chadwick is institute university of salford salford england m5 4wt email
david chadwick is sitting in the back seat of a car driving suzuki roshi somewhere or other and he decides he is just going to ask a really bad question

- Neil Rubenking

Davis, CA

DC - So I wrote Neil back and said hi and asked him when he came to ZC, and he replied:

August of 1972. I just picked up and headed for Tassajara - I had read about Zen in college, and about Tassajara in the Bread Book. I left my watch on a post for somebody else - I wasn't going to need that. (HAH!)

I hitchhiked to Tassajara from Monterey and they let me stay for three days - it was Suzuki Roshi's memorial ceremony during that time. I didn't miss him by much!

I looked at the sfzc site, at the schedule of classes for the Tassajara season. Weird! Virtually all the names are people that were there 30 years ago (including my ex-wife).

- Neil

"Before the beginning, there was this turtle. And the turtle was alone. And he looked around. And he saw his neighbor, which was his mother, and he lay down on top of his neighbor, and behold, she bore him in tears, an oak tree, which grew all day, and then fell over, like a bridge..."

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