This is an easy time in my life to write about gratitude. (December, 1996) I’m presently overflowing with gratitude. At least four hundred people have chipped in to make my life easier, and as a result, I was able to buy a condiminium and some other things that will help me manage MS. I’ll be…
I have a friend named Ann who is eight years old. She comes to my apartment each day during the summer, and though I am neither her parent nor her teacher, I get a chance to be a little of each when she’s here. Her parents are also becoming my friends. They don’t really need…
There’s something about Norman Rockwell’s paintings that fascinates me. Like Garrison Keillor’s “News from Lake Wobegon,” on public radio, they seem to make significant statements about the human condition without coming right out and saying them. The statements are cloaked in art, and they appeal to all kinds of people – even some who are…
I don’t have a CD player, and don’t want one. I’m irrationally angry at compact disks. They became instantly popular about a week after I released my first recording – an LP. The CD is probably an improvement, and the LP, an anachronism. (Actually, at this point I don’t have a record player either, and…