O, love is never easy It’s almost always out of your way. It’s not the path of least resistance. It’s not some words you get to say. He is rough and she is gentle. He is smooth and she rocks like ice in gin. He is jittery and patient. She is cool and hot. I…
Category: Old Friends
Why Brett Favre is So Great
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Or… The Lost Art of Playing Games Brett Favre is retiring from football. Brett Favre is also stepping down, out of the limelight. He is relinquishing his role as one of the few people left to look up to in sports. It was something he took seriously. There are more than few people we can…
While he was running, I stood here still
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For Denny, who ran the marathon yesterday Not every To Do list has value, even in completion. Accomplishments fill time. They tire you to your bones, make you sleep better. But they are just done things, sometimes. Stand in this group if you run in circles to wear yourself out, to alleviate the boredom. Come…
Postcard from Kansas
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If you’re wondering where people go when they don’t update their blogs for a few days, it might be Kansas. It might be to visit old friends. To stop and sit on a sofa, holding a fussy baby and wonder “Is this what is meant by vacation?” It might be that time you spend, stopping…
Memory, Paralysis and Love
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or, How I Go On Loving London After you leave, you can’t go back. It’s good that London is old. It holds memory well. It bears up its edges, the mortar and the crust to take the dusty grime of memory and let it cling. After something is smashed, it’s broken. There is glue, or…
Love me, Love my Generalization
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I am not nice. It’s true. I quite often say not nice things (albeit TRUE things) for the sake of a laugh. Why? Because people are a pain. Not individually, naturally. One-on-one, I quite like everyone. It’s just all these heaving crowds of generalizations I can’t stand! Get them out of here! EAST COAST GIRLS…
Home for the Holidays
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When you go back home, it isn’t quite the same. I drove by 4245 Wyoming today. It was still brick and stucco and the porch that was all mine was still there. Yet it was like an amputated body part, lifeless and still, in the wet December rain. You cannot go back, I think. Even…
Launching a Mistress
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At Random House last night I met Lily (not her real name) and it reminded me of a story I want to tell you. But before I tell you, you have to know about last night. Lily and I and a roomful of disconnected people milling, the spaces filled with small talk and wine. We…
Chris says…
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Chris is leaving. Why does that matter? People leave London. They go to Spain. It happens all the time, and you’ll believe that most especially if you watch “A Place in the Sun” or “No Going Back” and the half dozen other copycat shows like it. Brits want out. Chris is loud and demanding. He…
Tales of May 06: Tampa-rriffiic!
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It wasn’t a “vacation.” It wasn’t a “holiday,” as they call it over here. It was an epic event of travel. With that in mind, I’ve decided to break up the Tales of May 06 into bits, for easier consumption. It all began, really, existentially, at the House of Meats. La Casa de la Carne.…
Michael Dale David Sebastian
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Navigating a new friend is like discovering a new museum. What is new about it, anyway? It’s been here for years. Yet it is new to me and I am new to it. Michael told me, casually, offhand, that he cleaned objects at the Victoria and Albert Museum in South Kensington. It was over a…
New Year’s Resolution Update
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I’ve had one of those days: first, that other damn volunteer, Sue, at the soup kitchen, is horning in on my territory. I mean, back off! I do the till on Fridays in this town! Then my temp gig fell through, so I was deprived of another noisy day in Soho, at the corner of…
Who loves me, baby?
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THEY do! This is Tony and Bill. They are my buddies at the Warrington. I love this photo. I took it with my new toy, my camera phone. Sigh… I remember the days when I said I would never, EVER had a cell phone. Well, don’t worry. Here, I have a “mobile” phone. Tony drinks…
Alex doesn’t read this weblog
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This is Alex. Hello Alex! Alex lives in London. He’s my friend. He’s married to Frances. I talk about her lots, but I don’t talk about Alex very much. Alex, like many of you (especially those of you not here right now), does not read my weblog. Why do you care whether Alex reads my…
C’mon everybody… follow me to The Lost Summer!
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Well, for those of you that wondered what happened to Colin and I this summer, here is a photo montage, not necessarily in order… very much like the European history you studied in high school, there was conflict, drama, invasions, unheaval, and Van Morrison concerts at stately homes. Enjoy! Bob, Amy and Colin in the…
