I knew Bob Dylan was out there, DJ of a show on XM Satellite Radio that hit the airwaves in May 2006. But I didn’t sign on to his Theme Time Radio Hour party until eighteen months later, well into the second season. By then, I had lots of catching up to do. “To listen to ‘Theme Time Radio Hour…
We are on the cusp of having a U.S. President who is both a gifted orator and a talented writer. Election Night was “a very good night for the English language” according to James Wood in a recent issue of the New Yorker. He writes: “A movement in American politics hostile to the possession and…
Actually, we have shiny happy 70-year old linoleum after today. Yes, indeedy, our antique kitchen floor got its first beauty makeover since we bought our house just over nine months ago. First vacuum up the Doug fir needles and cooking schmutz, then mop with Sal Suds, then rinse with clear water. Wait until dry. Then, by hand, apply a thin layer of some yuppie Marmoleum polish
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It has been an extraordinary few days. November 4, 2008, just after 11 p.m. Eastern Standard Time, barely the dinner hour for those of us who live in the Pacific Northwest, Barack Obama was declared the 44th President of the United States. The day after, Wednesday, November 5th, was like a…
From Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass (1891-92): ELECTION DAY, NOVEMBER, 1884. If I should need to name, O Western World, your powerfulest …
Lately, it seems like everyone I know is on edge. All the conversations I’ve had for the past month—whether back and forth in e-mail, on the phone, or chitchat over dinner—devolve into the same sentiment: We can’t wait until it’s midnight on November 4th. Election Day in the United States…
This week began with John leaving early on Sunday and me stumbling on a great Live from Lincoln Center program on KMHD hosted by the always-informative Wynton Marsalis. The show’s theme? George Gershwin. A very very very interesting fellow.
I listened to the opera, Porgy and Bess, over two days this week and now, in celebration of the return of summer…
Photo by Robert Ashworth. Sunset here now. Actually, the light’s just about gone. The creek below our cabin is rushing, the predominant sound since we …
We have arrived. Here. The end of the road. A small wiggle that peters out on every map. What is here? A noisy, churning brook. …
A woman jogger with stocking seams tattooed down the backs of her bare legs, bows at the bottom near her ankles. A man walking along 42nd, not far from Fremont by AJ Java, taking off his sandals to walk in bare feet across Prescott Street…
