When Odd Becomes Ordinary

Odd Image

Truman Capote could write only in bed.

Agatha Christie liked to write in the tub while nibbling apples.

Jack Kerouac typed his novels on a continuous roll of paper.

Read more
1 reaction Share

You Know You’re from Cape Cod if...

Nauset Beach

This is Memorial Day weekend.

Read more
1 reaction Share

Time after Time

During the past two decades I have watched my firstborn grandson grow from a six-pound squirt to a strapping and achingly handsome young man -- sporting a handful of my genes, of course -- who competes in triathlons. Two weeks ago he ran his first marathon. Last week Duquesne honored him with a double degree in biology and physical therapy cum laude.

Read more
1 reaction Share

The Ladder of Love

What is this thing called love?
This funny thing called love?
Just who can solve its mystery?
Why should it make a fool of me?
I saw you there one wonderful day
You took my heart and threw it away
That’s why I ask the lord in heaven above
What is this thing called love?

Cole Porter, 1929

Read more
1 reaction Share

Birds of Paradise

Bird flyway

I titled my first novel, Down the Edges, after these words from Elizabeth Bishop: 

“All my life I have lived and behaved very much like a sandpiper, just running down the edges of different countries and continents, looking for something."

Read more
1 reaction Share

Islands

“Best of an island is, once you get there – you can’t go any farther …
you’ve come to the end of things….”

Agatha Christie,
And Then There Were None

Read more
1 reaction Share

Yellow Brick Road

Yellow Brick Road

“You could start at a path leading nowhere more fantastic than from your own front steps to the sidewalk, and from there you could go … well, anywhere at all.”

Stephen King, It

Read more
1 reaction Share

The Sounds of Silence

The words of the prophets are
Written on the subway walls
And tenement halls
And whispered in the sounds of silence

Read more
1 reaction Share

Another Similarity

The grandfather had become very old. His legs would not carry him, his eyes could not see, his ears could not hear, and he was toothless.

Read more
1 reaction Share

My Bout with Gout

A 1799 caricature of gout.
A 1799 caricature of gout.

One of the perils of Paradise is an insect bite. Here in Vieques we have the usual suspects that are common to the North – mosquitoes, bees and wasps, spiders. But in the tropics we have some big-time chompers – tarantulas, scorpions and the fleet-footed Puerto Rican centipede that can approach a foot in length.

Read more
1 reaction Share