For my part I didn’t have the empathy at the time to comprehend how frightening, how devastating it must have been for him to realize the dulling of his once sharp wit.
For my part I didn’t have the empathy at the time to comprehend how frightening, how devastating it must have been for him to realize the dulling of his once sharp wit.
My San Francisco is a series of posts that describe my own personal relationship with The City. My San Francisco posts might be photo essays or life stories or commentaries or a combination of some or all three. They might not always be flattering but they all have one thing in common; they are my …
They seem at times like doomed spirits and some of the loneliness that I felt for them was in knowing that historically the horse has been man’s partner.
My San Francisco is a series of posts that describes my own personal relationship with The City. My San Francisco pieces might be photo essays; they might be life stories or they could be commentaries. They might be a combination of some or all three. My impressions won’t necessarily be paeans to San Francisco; it’s …
Sitting in the car looking at the dilapidated shack, movies came to mind. Deliverance for instance. Was that the twang of a banjo I heard?
Imagine taking your car into the shop. You know the “shop?” The shop is the generic name for the place that takes temporary possession of your car and permanent possession of the contents of your wallet. Your car is running in fits and starts so you take it to the shop. The mechanic tells you …
To a large segment of the American public today is a dark, if not the darkest, day of the year. Today is the Monday following the Super Bowl marking the end of the football season and about a six month drought until the beginning of exhibition games in midsummer – it’s the sports equivalent of …
Her tools are her nose, eyes, stamina and a boundless desire to please her human. But it’s the nose that’s the primary tool and her skill in putting it to work comes from an instinct hardwired into her through centuries of breeding and heredity.
The shaggy rocker Rod Stewart told us in song that “every picture tells a story.” There are a myriad of stories to be found in Lafayette Cemetery but the pictures only tell a part of the story, just enough to wet the appetite. So, unlike the last post about Lafayette Cemetery which was mostly photos, we’re …
Is there any greater vehicle for gossip, inappropriate behavior, embarrassment, drunkenness and buffoonery outside of our nation’s capital than an office holiday party?
The Life in My Years 