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Sunday Rock
It was raining as I drove along the western edge of the Adirondack Park recently. It was around the time when my thoughts turned to how much weight the Yankee pitcher, C. C. Sabathia, had lost during the off-season. Or, perhaps I was reflecting on Colbert replacing Letterman on the Late Show. More than likely, however,…
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The Rivers of my Life: Episode 1–The Charles
The river rolls on, like a sad lover’s song. But is it the beginning or the end? [Lyrics taken from an educational film I used to show my students when I taught Earth & Space Science in the 1970’s] Flowing water has always held a fascination with me. I grew up with the great Susquehanna…
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The Skeleton in the Taxi
The Division Head in the private school where I taught was very adamant. “All this stuff has to go, Pat. Everything you don’t use in a year should be cleaned out.” I looked around the Middle School lab and began to make mental notes of what needed to be tossed. The chemicals, of course, had…
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A Missing Image But Still A Memory
The photographic frame, measuring 3″x5″ sat on the flat surface of the headstone. It’s a small quiet Catholic cemetery on the edges of the village of Saranac Lake, New York. The winter snow was gone but no grass or Spring flowers had the courage, or time, to begin their life again. Cemeteries are full…
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I’ll Be There To Catch Your Soul, Cragen
I’ll be there to catch your soul, Cragen. If only you love me, Claudia. There is some truth in the short tale I am about to tell. If you’re from a particular place in New York State, you will know what the true parts are. If you love wine, you will be able to offer…
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The Garden of Earthly Deletes
Her email: I’m sorry about what happened. Will you forgive me? Can you forgive me? Will you let me come back? My response: No, after what u said before. If that’s the way u want things to be then don’t come home..stay with u r mom!! Her email: Please let’s try to work things out.…
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Stourhead
The grounds of Stourhead in Wiltshire, England. This landscaped park includes a small village, a church, graveyard, numerous scrubs and trees of varied species and an Inn. At the far end of the lake is a “gothic” ruin, specially designed to looked many centuries old. You could sit among the ruins and contemplate the brevity…
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I Was a Teenage Blogger
The road to perdition is paved with little things. My own dark and tragic personal story begins with little pieces of paper. Not small bits the size of confetti that are thrown out of windows on lower Broadway during “ticker-tape” parades. No, larger slips white or yellow ripped from notebooks, steno pads and the…
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Lord Knows, I Tried
I believe that giving the gift of music to one’s own child is very important. This tendency to pass onto a child is something I got from my mother. When I was about ten years old, she signed me up for private piano lessons from a Miss Shepard, who lived next to the Presbyterian…
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patrickjegan 