Laugh Before Breakfast, Cry Before Sunset
In the good ole days, I enjoyed reading the morning paper as I ate my breakfast. Then the 21st century rolled around. I still read the news over my breakfast, but now that news...
John P. O'Grady Blog
Dreams of Virginia Dare
I was there the night it all began, but the greater part of this story I’ve had to piece together over the years from reports of others, mostly friends of mine, who are usually...
Grave Goods
In the years just prior to World War II, young Gus Kenny was studying philosophy at the University of California. He did not fare well in this department ruled by analytical philosophers, for he...
A Curious Post
Funny thing happened today at the transfer station (formerly known as the dump). As I was walking past the large container for waste paper, a gust of wind came through and blew a ragged...
An Alluring Water Feature
Let the waters swarm with a swarm of living creatures. – Genesis 1:20 Not long ago, David Rothenberg and I visited the most secret of all secret ponds. It lies next to a...
Night Ride Home
The night of the day my father died, I was driving my mother home along a serpentine road through a long stretch of northern Alabama woods, grim and unfamiliar. We were strangers here, a...
Some Things Follow the Sun
A sunny day and I was meeting Chip Blake for lunch at a brewpub nestled in the shadow of Monument Mountain in the Berkshires. Monument Mountain is where Herman Melville met Nathaniel Hawthorne for...
At Risk for Falls
Upon one reach Reach a certain age and one’s Medical Record by default includes a caveat: “At Risk for Falls.” This year in the Land of Rip Van Winkle, the entire region was diagnosed...
Boxes
I spent the Labor Day weekend sorting through cardboard coffins—a.k.a., Bankers Boxes—crammed with my “papers.” Once upon a time, these sheets were bright with blankness. Then I saw fit to deface them with my...
Ursine Feast
What until the night before had been an old stump at the edge of the yard, now a gaping pit (“tip” spelled backwards) left by a hungry bear. No more carpenter ants here. Full...
Poet Bling
One time, Bernadette, Phil, and I were going to an art event in Saratoga Springs. The two of them, of course, are poets and looked like it. I look like something else and was...