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Showing posts from May, 2016

Turn The Tables

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In her elegantly written  and poignant new book, M Train, Multitalented Patti Smith shares many of the intimate details of her personality and consequently her life.  That Smith has all the artist's sensibility there is no doubt.  One thing however, that I find fascinating is her enjoyment of ing to regular small cafes to rad and write.  While there is nothing special about this practice, Smith gives us other dimensions of both these places and her need and appreciation of them. There is one particular cafe she frequents, Cafe Ino, where she feels most comfortable at a certain table.  It has become her table.  When she comes in she always has the same thing for breakfast. "Brown toast, olive oil, and back coffee. " Smith has come to depend on this table as being there for the taking, but on occasion, it isn't.  At these times she grudgingly takes another, but not without some internal grumbling about having to do so.  We never find out if the owner of this cafe wou

Double Date

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"I got a few things to tell you."  Kenny called and began with the first thing.  He told me Janet was now in Hospice care. "Oh," I said. Janet is his former sister-in law.  She was my first girlfriend.  It's sobering to hear your first love is in Hospice care. I knew she'd been battling cancer for awhile.  So has my sister and a number of other friends.  But Janet's battle was apparently in the final phase. It must be 45 years since I spoke with her, but I still recall our first date.  I recall all the times Kenny and I went over to see Carol and Janet, the sisters we both took to our high school prom.  We even joined the Catholic Youth Organization to go to the dances with them.  A Jew and a Baptist would do anything to dance with the Borstner sisters. But our relationships went in different directions.  Kenny married Carol after she got pregnant, and I went on to college and Janet ended up with the football star and class president of a large Cath

Stepping Out

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I stepped out of my life for a week.  Shed...like a snakeskin or a bad habit that's been gnawing on your soul for far too long.  Didn't walk away, just floated down a highway until I couldn't take the exhaust fumes and the landscape that crumbled in sunlight. Stepped into a life where people talk far too loudly and share their persona anxieties with everyone in earshot.  A land where summer dictates the clothing and cars run over everything. I stepped out of my life and let it ride...in place for a week. My life in limbo is all that exists for this week.  Nothing else captures my attention because it isn't there. It is frozen in time, longing to exist and incapable of anything more than a memory. I stepped to of my life to a land not wholly strange.  A onetime home on hills that stand and stare back. I stepped into thinking about going back.

Derby Day 2016

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34years ago, this week, I was in Louisville, Kentucky.  I had the good fortune to land full press credentials to cover the Kentucky Derby for a Northern California thoroughbred breeders magazine.  With full support from family, friends, and my school administrators, I took the week off and set off for Kentucky.  Talk about a dream fulfilled.  Fortunately, I had a friend whose family lived in Louisville and let me stay in their spare room.  With rental car, and press pass in tow, I visited Churchill Downs daily for the better part of the week before the Derby and collected interviews, statistics, photographs, and all manner of data on the 20 entries for the big race.  I mingled with most of the famous sports reporters of my generation.  I was temporarily accepted into the network of turf writers and eagerly partook of all the privileges (access, food, beverages) afforded one with full credentials.  The magical week included winning about $500. in successful bets and an unforgettable wal