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THE INDIGO STRAITS: December 2014
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Thursday, December 18, 2014. The Pope Knows Cuba (e Cani) Libre. Buon compleanno, Papa, e grazie mille! Friday, December 12, 2014. And The Little Red Schoolhouse. It'll be good to get that thing out of here! I can't remember the last time an e-mail made me feel that way. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). The Pope Knows Cuba (e Cani) Libre. Dahlia Danton's Search for Meaning. MICAH CARPENTIER'S BLUE DRAWINGS. SCHOFFMAN: PAINTER by Currado Malaspina. THE BITTER FURIES OF CURRADO MALASPINA. GOOD FOOD BAD ART.
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THE INDIGO STRAITS: January 2015
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Friday, January 30, 2015. If the roar of the Mig, screaming out of the Grecian sun wasn't alarming enough, our hitherto unflappable Turkish Captain, waving his arms and bellowing for my mother to come forward left little doubt that something may have gone seriously awry. The jet, so close that the pilot was plainly visible from the deck where we all stood - mouths agape, hearts pounding -. To the Captain, it hardly mattered as the event would have passed and the man had maintained his course throughout.
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THE INDIGO STRAITS: September 2015
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Saturday, September 19, 2015. The epicenter of Sin in the City, Times Square, was our ultimate destination. There we could buy a bag of Borkham Riff and a corncob pipe, maybe even a warm quart of Ballentine to share in the shadows beneath the tawdry marquees advertising such things as Topless-A-Go-Go and Girls, Girls, Girls! You boys will burn in the hellfire of the Lord's damnation! How could he have known? Saturday, September 5, 2015. What Makes the Muskrat Guard His Musk? Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).
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THE INDIGO STRAITS: SNOW JOB
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Wednesday, August 5, 2015. 8221; Manny barked, grabbing the brief-case and wrenching it open. My stomach rose in my throat, my ears began to ring and a cold sweat broke across my forehead. My first thought, of course, was to play dumb and, by way of diversion I trotted out a meaningless melange of the French and Latin they'd just started us on in that fourth-grade year at school. “Pardon? 8221; I asked. “Quo vadis? 8221; Nothing came to mind; I drew a blank. Suddenly recalling the marquee of the movi...
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THE INDIGO STRAITS: March 2015
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Thursday, March 26, 2015. When I met Doug's train that afternoon at Grand Central he'd just come from an. Actually assertive Doug stepped from the train, we were all just learning about the hundreds of members of the Peoples' Temple Agricultural Project who had just opted for an entirely different self-improvement plan in Jonestown, Guyana. Wednesday, March 18, 2015. Mom would never have referred to herself as a cellist; after twenty years of hauling that buxom hardbody all over the Hudson Valley and bey...
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THE INDIGO STRAITS: April 2015
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Wednesday, April 29, 2015. 8221; The pretty one opened with, suppressing a giggle. “ What's that? 8221; her friend asked, pointing to the ring, “ You're not married. What, how old are you, thirteen or something? 8221; Mortified and ashamed, I mumbled something about having to go – I think I told them my mother was dying in Albany – and stumbled out the door with the sound of their mocking laughter ringing in my ears all the way home. God forfend – a twist, might earn a glare and eye-roll from the m...
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THE INDIGO STRAITS: November 2014
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Friday, November 28, 2014. They'd only known each other for about five years before Mom died – because “.She led a really great life. She went to school in Paris, and lived there for many years. She was an artist, who painted on a regular basis and she made constant trips to all the world, especially Europe.”. Word came through the blizzard and blackout last night -. Suzanne has already drawn a line in the sand and refuses to back up. Thursday, November 20, 2014. Eventually, somewhere near the 72. 8220;B...
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THE INDIGO STRAITS: February 2015
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Wednesday, February 25, 2015. The Grapes of Roth (looking for love in all the wrong places). 8220;Let's see,” my mother had said that afternoon, taking a book down from the shelf, opening it at random and briefly skimming.“ You might be old enough for this one.”. Its dust-jacket long gone, the dull green cover didn't inspire me much and the title, The Grapes of Wrath. Etched in faded gold along the spine didn't seem like much fun, either. I had gone to the study, bored with Penrod. Or Archie and Mehitable.
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THE INDIGO STRAITS: My Bad
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Saturday, September 19, 2015. The epicenter of Sin in the City, Times Square, was our ultimate destination. There we could buy a bag of Borkham Riff and a corncob pipe, maybe even a warm quart of Ballentine to share in the shadows beneath the tawdry marquees advertising such things as Topless-A-Go-Go and Girls, Girls, Girls! You boys will burn in the hellfire of the Lord's damnation! How could he have known? Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). What Makes the Muskrat Guard His Musk? GOOD FOOD BAD ART.
