It became alarmingly evident some time ago that this raucous and scary run-up to the presidential nominating conventions was like no other in recent history.
There is a level of anger, name-calling, swagger and outrageous oratory — although that word hardly seems appropriate for the coarse verbal bombast being unleashed by the candidates — to make your neck hairs dance. (more…)
REPORTER FILE PHOTO | Some things never change: New Year’s Eve brings fireworks and a debate about resolutions from our columnist.
My track record on New Year’s resolutions is pathetic.
It’s not so much that I’ve failed to accomplish my self-improvement goals. I have a problem with the whole concept. (more…)
I said these words last year: I don’t need to have another traditional roasted turkey dinner on Thanksgiving for the rest of my life.
As I recall, this was not the fault of the preparers or the circumstances of last year’s feed (I should know these things yet it all blurs), but simply a feeling that this particular holiday paradigm had run its course. (more…)
We were doing some end-of-summer reorganizing in the garage as beach chairs and umbrellas and towels were moved out of the car into their accustomed autumn and winter positions.
We also did some minor purging of accumulated grandkid stuff — a remarkable arsenal of water guns was pared down to a sensible level, meaning every family member would have two such weapons should an all-out war break out next summer. (more…)
BEVERLEA WALZ PHOTO
Elliot, a chickadee
Reginald, a cardinal
Gus, a grackle
Maude, a mourning dove
Rusty, a squirrel
Jim, a human
Elliot: There is much to like about humans and bird feeders, but with weekend people it can get pretty spotty. Jim is not nearly as regular a feeder as he was when they first bought the place. But credit is due for he has paid real money over the years for the seed. Ninety percent of Islanders never think about getting engaged in feeding.
Reginald: As everyone knows, I’m a big consumer of seed, but truth be told, I find it incredibly bland stuff. It’s like eating saltines all day. I’d much rather chomp on a wet, fat bug, but nailing bugs, that’s work. I’d rather fight for feeder perches with you guys, although I am struck by the laziness implied in that confession. (more…)