Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son?
Oh, where have you been, my blue-eyed son? Oh, where have you been, my darling young one? This is a…
Author: scribbler
I shall miss you so much when I’m dead
Memoirs by the dying and their survivors keep on coming. Mine became this blog. Cory Taylor’s Dying: A Memoir is…
Take that, Mr Under Toad
There’s nothing like watching the home team win 8-4 with a rousing grand slam home run. Sends the Under Toad…
The Under Toad is strong today.
Years later, my high school sweetheart read The World According to Garp. Afterwards, whenever things were going badly, she would…
It’s 50 years since the Newark uprising.
Today marks the 50th anniversary of the events that kicked off the uprising in Newark. I’ve described previously how I…
I dreamt that I met Tyrone Guthrie last night
And I know why. When I was in college, I had very romantic notions of moving to Ireland to live…
That which does not kill you, makes you stronger.
Or not. All during the first season of The Sopranos, Tony’s mother plotted with his uncle to kill him. After…
Were you ever sure you’d done something and then found out you hadn’t?
I’ve mentioned before that I haven’t been doing much blogging because I’m working on a long essay on Buddhist philosophy….
Another day in June
Today was one of those clear, bright June days in New Jersey that go a long way towards making up…
Grass roots Princeton.
When I started graduate school at UNC Chapel Hill in 1969, the African-American cafeteria workers were on strike for better…