Here’s an article I wrote which was published in the July issue of The Ryder magazine. You can also see the article as it was published with photos and layout and stuff. What follows is the slightly longer text I submitted, without editorial cuts, and with a few relevant links. Consider this a rough-draft preview from a forthcoming book, still several years down the road and more of a dream than a reality.
Saturday night I found myself with a bunch of Pagans and other folks at an uptown synagogue, preparing food for the homeless. We whipped up…
Couple of weird dreams lately. Two night ago, I dreamed we got an extra-thick Times-Picayune on our front porch. It was a Sunday. We don’t…
Probably the biggest surprise for me on this vacation was just how prosperous Bloomington seemed. (More on that later.) If I had any doubts on this front, they were laid to rest by my visit to The Rail.
Contemporary craft cocktails and tapas — in Bloomington? I was impressed. And I was even more impressed when it came out that our bartender, Colin Boilini, had won a contest with Tales of the Cocktail. They’ll be bringing him down here to New Orleans next week.
Naturally we commanded Mr. Boilini to prepare for us his award-winning cocktail — which he did.
Dear Persephone, You are fifty-three months old today. Yesterday, technically, but cut me some slack. After our long summer vacation, I finally understand what people…
When I arrived in Bloomington, people were already complaining about the heat. “You must have brought this heat up with you from New Orleans,” they…
We took a break from Bloomington and made a side trip to visit my family.
When we arrived at my parents’ house, I was alarmed to discover my father lying on the floor in the kitchen. My folks aren’t getting any younger. Was this a medical emergency?
Since I don’t get back to Bloomington often, I made a point of getting together with folks.
The first thing I did when I got to Bloomington was to ride the B-Line. Lucky me, I have generous friends who let me borrow…
We went way up to the mountains of northern Alabama, to Monte Sano State Park. No elaborate rituals. No goat sacrifice. Just hanging out in…