Awakened an hour later than usual this morning. I barely remember the alarm which I somehow squelched. Consciousness returned at 7AM at which time I rose from sleep. Attended a gallery opening in Waukegan for the work of photographer Frank Styburski. A consequence of an evening rich with wonder at the stories told…
It is snowing outside, a gentle snow, the advance scout of approaching winter. It’s no longer possible to assume that winter will fall within the range of past norms. Will it be a siege of ice, an assault by serial snow storms? Or will the next few months bring warmth, and little precipitation? Either…
Last night was delightfully strange. On Thursday evenings a few of us, using philosophy as an excuse, meet at Taste of Paris Cafe in Mundelein. The purpose is to reflect upon a topical discussion of earlier in the week, while we drink wine or coffee. I never know who will show up or if anyone…
I am reading a book by Ernst Jünger, the WWI era German writer and survivor of trench warfare. Jünger’s claim to fame is his book based upon his daily journals written while fighting in the trenches entitled Storm of Steel. His book On Pain was written and published in 1934. Jünger is an excellent…
It is a Wednesday morning. Sunlight floods into the window at Starbucks. Warmth, light, life– gifts of nature, no charge. The coffee on the other hand costs, but the deal is quite fair for a large cup of pure comfort. Do I write about a jetliner that went down? It plunged into the sea…
I am old. Old is when you find yourself thinking “they’ve not made music like that since Elvis, or the Beatles, or the Bodeans or whomever.” Stuck in time not noticing that time has moved on. Well, snap out of it! There is fabulous music out there, and we must not forget that a…
Wrestling with what to call this story, I settled on what’s written above. On Saturday evening six of us met at Docks Bar and Grill on the edge of Bangs Lake in Wauconda. Gary invited us to hear his son Jeff play in a band. I’d never visited Docks Bar and Grill before. On…
On Receiving the First News of the War by Issac Rosenberg Snow is a strange white word; No ice or frost Has asked of bud or bird For Winter’s cost. Yet ice and frost and snow From earth to sky This Summer land doth know; No man knows why. In all men’s hearts it…
This guest post is a story by my good friend Jeff. Jeff is a retired banker and a life-long devotee of making music. I’ve benefited from hearing Jeff cover songs that are deeply embedded within the memory of our generation, as well as some fine compositions of his own. He gave permission to share…
I like you, tend to be distracted by the posturing, the theatrics, the spectacle of politicians and admen jockeying for more power in our media infused way of life. As I observe those around me, it seems that most of us are about to fall into those small screens we hold in our hands,…
