Sojourns
Sometimes I reminisce about places I used to live. Maybe you do too. The older I get, the more it happens: For no reason, I’ll just start thinking about the house I grew up...
John P. O'Grady Blog
Philosophy Buries Its Undertakers
Dour Hour down at Pandora’s Tavern. A first-time visitor lifts his mug and takes a sip. He winces, he swallows, he growls: “This beer tastes like an obituary!” Bartender says nothing, continues philosophically wiping...
Wandering
Fourth week of February in the icy Northern Woodlands. The almanac tells us what to expect: “Raccoons go wandering on the warmer nights, and may not end up in the same den that they...
Live Better
The ancient Greeks practiced something called cledonomancy, a form of divination via random remarks. The way it works is you stick your fingers in your ears, then head out into the marketplace. At a...
No Nox
So called things have lives as well. They too get put away and forgotten. Sometimes in plain view.
Recombobulation Area
I was inside a place in Vermont. I took this picture because the picture on the wall depicts what the place looks like on the outside. I really wanted a picture of the outside but...
The Bartender
I remember the first time I showed up down at Pandora’s Tavern and told the bartender my story. He listened politely and said: “You are a Catskill Mountain hermit with a West Coast sensibility....
Ignorance is Bliss
I was asked by a friend what my muses make of the election results. So I queried them. They replied with a terse word: “Ignoramus”. Which literally is to say “we do not know” but has the...