Second City At Pheasant Run

One year ago tonight we saw a famously funny show of Second City at St Charles Pheasant Run, and it was a complete gas. They never call on anyone from the audience, yet my son's pal J got called on stage for a long skit. It was so funny, and he says he was nervous, but you couldn't ever tell it from the video I shot. He played right along with the cast (the same cast as in this photo) and he had several extremely great lines himself.

Fun memories.


Upward Vision

It's almost a calendar flip,
And with that observation,
Things are looking up,
Just a not-so-subtle personal revelation.


Satan's Toilet: Makes a Great Gift

Remembering Summer


Reflections from a hammock.
Shakespeare festival, impromptu for me,
Metered and practiced for them.

A bicycle, no petrol but my muscles,
A rucksack full of beer and reading.
Summer on Island Park, Geneva.


Gay In Valley Nordkapp

My dear kayaking friend, Gay, aka Trailmom, looking fine on the big water in a red Valley Nordkapp. The boat used to be mine, and I am delighted that Gay was able to buy it from me and give it a wonderful home. She is making fine use of it, making memories and having fun and being the wonderful outdoorswoman and kayaker that she is. A sweet reflection in chilly December.

Okay Voice. Nothing Great.


Phoebe Believes So Much That It's Like Falling Off A Crazy Cliff

My sister Phoebe still has pies in her eyes when she thinks about life, you know, still thinking there's a Santa Claus and all, even when every phony Santa down at Gimbels lets their fake beard fall off their face, and they even smoke Camels in front of the kids, the crazy bastards...we have to lie to every goddam kid that those are Santa's helpers and the real Santa would never do corny stuff like that.

That's the thing about kids, they want to believe. They want to think the ducks in the pond won't freeze to death in the winter, and that the carousel horse with the glass eyes might someday come alive and jump right off that goddam merry-go-round and give them a ride right up Fifth Avenue.

That's the swell thing about kids--they really crack me up, they really do--because they believe everything they see. And we should kiss the bottoms of their little feet and let them know it's okay to believe. Even if the rest of the world thinks they're just little kids running off some crazy cliff in a field of rye with no one to catch them--no one big, at least--we should let them believe like a madman, because when they realize it's all made up, they won't be kids any more.

---Holden, May 2011


Miss You

Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody. ~J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye, Chapter 26


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