Archives in Category: Nostalgia

Ten minutes to write. Less time to read.

Stonehenge

Stonehenge, that massive pile of carefully laid stones in the downlands of England, has been a source of speculation and admiration for generations. I remember first learning about it in some elementary school social studies class where the teacher hinted

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Roots

Yesterday I received a call from Gertrude McDonald, who is my first cousin once removed on my mother’s side. It had probably been three or four years since we’d talked; but, as with most of the McDonalds, you can pick

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Images

Before there was digital photography, there were paper photographs, the kind you brought to a drug store for one hour processing. And before there was one hour processing, you waited in anticipation for a few days to see how your

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Really Home

I wrote earlier in the week that visiting New York City was like going home. And I meant it. But it needs clarification . . .

Visiting New York City is like returning to the home of my childhood,

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Grand Central

Every time I visit New York City I see an old friend. Sometimes it’s just to linger over drinks; sometimes it’s for a leisurely dinner. Either way, it’s great to be back in Grand Central, the grande dame of refurbished

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Not Lost in New York

So tomorrow I fly to New York City, and it’s like coming home. Sure, I get to see my son Keith and his partner Chris. I’ll visit their company headquarters and meet the staff too. In fact, that’s the primary

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Pumpkins

Carving the annual Halloween pumpkin ranks high among my fondest childhood memories. Perhaps it is because there was no other holiday baggage attached. Mostly I remember when we lived in Syracuse, NY. That was between my fourth and sixth grades

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Limbo

Limbo is a state of suspended animation; you’re neither here nor there. And that’s what Chicago’s White Sox have been in all week, waiting to see whom they will play in the World Series (a truly misnomered championship, but that’s

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Connections

I last saw her a couple years ago, when she was approaching eighty and I was approaching sixty. It’s hard to imagine, since we were in each other’s lives on a daily basis when I was just over thirty. The

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Katrina

All day Earl and I have watched the television, glued to the weather station and news of Hurricane Katrina as it wends its way inland through Louisiana and Mississippi.

It’s funny about associations. I once had a student named Katrina

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