Recently a relative of a friend died and I had wanted to send along a note, not of condolence, but of recognition of the fact of the death. Although a relative, the relationship between friend and relative was not close. Still, I felt an acknowledgement of the loss would be the proper thing to do. …
There is a story told of my great-grandmother, a story of the time she shot at a man. Like many such family stories, there probably is an element of truth to it which was embellished over time. Yet, for reasons I will explain later, I suspect there is more fact than fancy in this particular …
It was one of those dreams, you know the kind, where you have trouble separating the dream from reality. Most dreams, at least mine, have a surreal, Daliesque quality. Something about the scene is not quite right. The shape of a tree perhaps or the scene seems out of proportion. You know you are dreaming. …
Occasionally, something will pop into my head quite unexpectedly. A random thought or image, scraps of memory seemingly unconnected to what I was doing at the time. Hence, when the song “Strike up the band for Popeye the Sailor. Cash in his hand, fresh off a whaler. He’s a cinch but every inch a sailor” …
Consider for a moment – Cary Grant; suave and debonair, the epitome of panache. Movie studios loved to showcase him in a tuxedo whenever possible. A case in point is Bringing Up Baby where an early scene shows him descending a broad staircase, pure Art Deco, characteristically checking his shirt cuffs, making certain the right …
