Monthly Archives: March 2011

Patience Lake

Look, Pa, there goes Grandpa’s ghost!

Editorial: Yesterday I was sitting in an airport Sbarro with my daughter at a small table along the edge of a concourse. We were sitting face-to-face. Walking towards us from behind my daughter I spied an older man with a slight limp, wispy gray hair, and tortoise-rimmed glasses. He was carrying a well-loved canvas tote and wore a familiar uniform: frayed khaki pants, pinpoint dress shirt, well-worn leather lace-up shoes, and of course a double-breasted navy blue blazer with bright gold buttons. Instantly I saw my father. I smiled to myself and thanked him silently for his visit. I also made the mental note that my father is a traveler in death and that it was idiotic of me to visualize him holed up in the firmament. As the traveler came abreast of our table, passed, and then entered my daughter’s field of vision she called out, Look, Pa, there goes Grandpa’s ghost! This dear child barely knew her grandfather and certainly never traveled with him. I smiled again. There went Grandpa’s ghost.


Filed under Editorial, Quotes


A second page has been added to this blog—Cartoons.  It holds my all-time favorite cartoons from The New Yorker.  Wiles of the Devil.  Say something.  City Mouse.  Doggie Hell.  Enjoy!

Leave a comment

Filed under Administration

Donald Hall

The Things
by Donald Hall

When I walk in my house I see pictures,
bought long ago, framed and hanging
—de Kooning, Arp, Laurencin, Henry Moore—
that I’ve cherished and stared at for years,
yet my eyes keep returning to the masters
of the trivial: a white stone perfectly round,
tiny lead models of baseball players, a cowbell,
a broken great-grandmother’s rocker,
a dead dog’s toy—valueless, unforgettable
detritus that my children will throw away
as I did my mother’s souvenirs of trips
with my dead father, Kodaks of kittens,
and bundles of cards from her mother Kate.

January 4, 2010, The New Yorker

1 Comment

Filed under Bagatelle, Poems

Scotch Proverb

Take time while time is, for time will away.

A Collection of Scotch Proverbs. Collected by Pappity Stampoy. London, Printed by R.D. in the Year 1663 (page 49).


Filed under Images, Quotes