One of the enduring memes (if we had had such a word to describe them at the time) of my childhood would have been my Dad's invocation of the "gremlin in the petrol tank." He was prone to bring it up in any situation where something unexpected happened and a thing that was supposed to… Continue reading Happy Birthday, Dad: The “Gremlin in the Petrol Tank” Edition
I've been aware of, and listening to, Rush in one form or another for exactly half-a-century, ever since his appearance on the Pittsburgh airwaves at the very young age of twenty, when he was calling himself Jeff Christie, and he was the rather 'mod' and transgressive disc jockey on WIXZ and KQV--the one the young'uns… Continue reading Rush Limbaugh, RIP
Nothing is plumb, level, or square: the studs are bowed, the joists are shaky by nature, no piece fits any other piece without a gap or pinch, and bent nails dance all over the surfacing like maggots. By Christ I am no carpenter. I built the roof for myself, the walls for myself, the floors… Continue reading A Pre-Valentine’s Day Poem To Those Who Matter: Love Song: I and Thou
She was born in Birmingham on January 23, 1912, into an England that was rending itself apart. Suffragettes demanding a woman’s right to vote were chaining themselves to Parliament’s railings, smashing storefront windows in Oxford Street, and living-room windows in Downing Street. Newly-empowered Socialist labor unions were flexing their muscle, threatening strikes in coal mining,… Continue reading Jenny Alice May Mapson, R.I.P.
Sixty years ago today, my idyllic life as an only child came to an end and I began the rest of my life as a sibling. We were living in Mubi, in the British Cameroons which was, at the time, administered as a United Nations Trust Territory. In a few short months, a plebiscite would… Continue reading “Two Different Faces”–Happy Birthday, Sis!
I've been thinking. Yes, I know that's always a frightening proposition. What can I say? Well, only that I'm 66 and still standing on my own two feet; that I'm content with how my life turned out (no, that doesn't mean, with the benefit of hindsight, that if I had a do-over about certain things… Continue reading Responsible Men, and the Women Who Love Them
It's that time of year again . . . and I was reminded of a post that I wrote on Ricochet--crimenutely!--seven Decembers ago. Not much has changed, except that our small family is even smaller. Sam is gone. And Mr. Right is gone. And numerous other two and four-legged friends have either fallen by the… Continue reading Putting Up the Christmas Tree
This post was originally published on ricochet.com on May 26, 2018. There's an update for 2020, just below it. This old house once knew his children This old house once knew his wife This old house was home and comfort As they fought the storms of life Truth be told, it’s not so very old.… Continue reading Of This Old House. Of Mine.
Well, here we go. A post in which I fully expect to be excoriated as a “Pollyanna.” As a person who refuses to acknowledge the Truth. A disbeliever in the “science” of what we (Conservatives) face at this particular crossroads. A deluded fool. And some sort of wrong-headed political animal who has no right to… Continue reading Giving Thanks: I Will Not Be Moved
Welcome to that most British of holidays–Bonfire Night–Guy Fawkes Night–the Fifth of November. The holiday that, when I was a kid, was exponentially bigger than Halloween, as for a few days before, children would push around a wheelbarrow laden with a straw-stuffed effigy of Guido Fawkes, usually dressed in their father’s cast-offs or scrapings from… Continue reading A Thought Experiment, Courtesy of Guy Fawkes