Nash
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My Freak Flag
I haven’t cut my hair in a year and a half. I’ve had a couple of trims, like before my daughter’s wedding, but not a cut as in, “I got a haircut today.” At fifty-seven this might appear immature and I admit to taking satisfaction in that. I take satisfaction in being a somewhat respectable Continue reading
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Four Dead in Ohio
We had breakfast with friends Mike and Wendy this week. Like a bunch of aged once-upstarts we were bemoaning the lack in today’s youth, vis-a-vis the activism of the sixties and seventies. Mike is slightly older than me and remembers better that period. He recalled passionately the atmosphere in Washington DC, where he lived. What Continue reading
...the house I live in... 