Just after I outed myself to my friends earlier this year, I heard from a couple of you about how odd it can be to read what someone else writes about his life. While there are a lot of entertaining blogs out there, you also tend to feel a little voyeuristic, and depending on the… Read More passed tense.
It doesn’t seem like it was 10 years ago. The day was Aug. 9, 1995. The time, if I recall, was around 11 a.m. I had just come out of a meeting to discuss a story I had been working on. When I sat down at my desk, a musically-aware photographer we worked with came… Read More 1942-1995.
A SPECIAL POST FOR THOSE OF US WHO WENT TO HIGH SCHOOL TOGETHER (although the rest of you are welcome to read as well…). Eighteen to 20 years ago, a language was created by a friend of ours, known on Uncle Crappy as Kewyson. This was a language that was only occasionally witnessed and difficult… Read More proof.
This weekend is going to be interesting. My mother-in-law and her husband arrive in Pittsburgh Thursday for a visit. They haven’t been up from their home in Texas for a while, but this trip isn’t just social — there really isn’t much social to it at all, in fact. They’re coming to watch a fishing… Read More something fishy.
Chet Helms died late yesterday, a couple days after he had a stroke. Helms, who was 62, had a hand in shaping the San Francisco music of the 1960s that still informs much of what I am, musically and otherwise. Helms was the “leader,” if there really was one, of the Family Dog, a group… Read More a swell dance concert.
Res ipsa loquitur. That’s latin, with a literal translation of “the thing speaks for itself.” It’s used as a legal term, meaning roughly that negligence is proven by the act itself. It’s also one of the taglines Hunter S. Thompson frequently used to wrap up one of his observations, i.e. “The presidency of George W.… Read More requiescat in pace.
Uncle Crappy 