Category: Real Personal History
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Waiting For All Hallow’s Eve VIII: “My Night as a Ghostbuster: A True Story”
One night in June of 2013, my wife and I entered a bar in Hogansburg, NY…just a few miles beyond the Akwesasne Mohawk Casino. We were part of a local “ghost investigation” group based in Malone. There had been reports of strange happenings at the bar. The staff refused to go to certain rooms alone…only…
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Waiting For All Hallow’s Eve VII: “Beyond The Campfire”
The autumn leaves are rustling in the chilly breeze–the chilly breeze that is coming from the lake–drifting through the trees with the promise or a threat of the coming winter. He threw another split piece of hardwood on the already warm fire. His wife looks at him when the pack of coyotes begin to howl.…
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Two Elderly Gentlemen Walk Into A Pub
An older man walked into a pub in Burlington, Vermont on a recent Saturday afternoon. It was minutes away from a heavy rain. The guy went downstairs to the men’s room. He was there at the pub to meet an old friend and he was about two minutes late. As he climbed the stairs,…
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The Social History of a Man’s Tie Rack
Many of you, my faithful readers and fans, probably assume that I just write a blog and then go off and mow the lawn, fish, read, paint, take Pilates, go to a movie, make a big bowl of popcorn, cook a stack of buttermilk flapjacks, attend a men’s support group, catalogue my moth collection,…
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Along The Red Tavern Road
In the northwest edge of the Adirondack Park is a lonely road. It winds through the forest connecting a highway intersection with a small hamlet that sits beside a waterfall and a small dam. This is a place founded on the lumber industry. Now, it’s a country for hunters, trappers, snowmobilers, fisherman and retired…
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Tonight! Live From Old Forge, NY
I spent thirty-five (+/-) years standing front of a roomful of students. Doing the head math, it probably means I pushed chalk and rambled on about all kinds of things (sometimes, I even talked about science) thousands of times. Of course, being shy and bashful by nature and carrying vast amounts of insecurities and inadequacies,…
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Zen and the Art of Sun Tea
I take the glass bottle and remove the plastic lid. I fill it up to the neck with water from a jug. It’s spring water, filtered tap…whatever…it’s better than our well water which is always cloudy. The well is too deep or maybe too shallow or just ‘dirty’ as the well-driller said. I open…
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The Stranger at the Other End of Front Street
I can feel the soft cool breeze blowing through my room from the Susquehanna River behind me. I am sitting at a small desk writing this post. My wife is sleeping deeply on the bed to my right. I am facing Front Street. The trucks speed past the town on the Southern Tier Expressway (Future…
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The Resurrection of Forgotten Love
In my youth, I loved with an intensity that burned hot and blinding-white, like a strip of Phosphorus. It consumed me and took control of my personal and private self. All my waking moments were devoted to devising ways to make this love, love me in return. In this vain attempt, I failed. How can…
patrickjegan 