My brother Doug writes about his afternoon with my four-year-old grandson:
When Ethan and I walked outside, we had no specific plans. We knew only that the sun was shining, the spring birds were singing. It was warm and we were going to explore the backyard. There were so many possibilities. But once he saw the hose happily gurgling water into the pool, I knew immediately what the next 15 minutes would hold. Continue reading “A Boy, a Swimming Pool, and the Laws of Universe”
On September 10, CBS Late Late Show host Craig Ferguson, a Scotland-born, recently naturalized American citizen, delivered an impassioned rant about the importance of voting. Airing immediately after Obama appeared on Letterman’s show, Ferguson’s screed was trenchant, funny, and exactly right.
“If you don’t vote, you’re a moron!”
At the end of this month, I’m heading to Ohio for a week of swing-state voter registration work. More on that in my next post.
Watch the video below.
Passersby were forced to walk in the street as the Tour de Healdsburg cycled (without forward movement) on the sidewalk outside Costeaux French Bakery in a vigorous and joyful celebration of Bastille Day.
Riding for the unheralded Le Musée Historique team (Healdsburg Museum and Historical Society) were Continue reading “Vive le Musée!”
She makes a terific argumint.
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The sign in the background reads:
——–Tejas no es una colonia mexicana.
A tip of the hat to Robert Rummel-Hudson's Fighting Monsters with Rubber Swords blog.
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As a kid, baseball was my sport. I was too short to be effective in basketball, no one played soccer in the 50’s, and although I was fast and could catch, my lack of bulk marginalized me in football. I played Little League, made the All-Star team, and loved the game. I played softball in organized leagues well into my 40’s.
I hadn’t played hardball, however, for over three decades when, several years ago, on a bright spring day, my younger brother Doug suggested we pull out some equipment and head for a nearby diamond. My head full of memories of past glories, we, accompanied by Doug’s friend Scott, found the field empty and inviting. I soon found out, however, that the invitation was for a surprise party. Continue reading “Baseball: Recapturing Youth”
There are sage pronouncements that should never be ignored.
In his 1956 short story collection, A Walk on the Wild Side, Nelson Algren wrote: “Never play cards with a man called Doc. Never eat at a place called Mom’s.” I have always avoided faux physicians at poker palaces, but once, after nearly two handfuls of driving hours, I was seduced into stopping for gas and food at Mom’s Cafe in Salina, UT. Here is my review. Continue reading “Mom’s Cafe — Salina, Utah”