Last week I wrote about being in NYC and watching Tiny Tim’s wedding on The Johnny Carson Show. As weird as Tiny Tim may have been, my watching the show was even weirder. Or more exactly, while I was watching it I was in one very weird mood. My weirdness had nothing to do with Tiny Tim, ...

One of the beauties of being retired is how my time is just that — MY time. Aside from the occasional appointment with this or that sawbones and having bills to pay, there’s almost nothing I have to do and nowhere I have to be. As a result, I am a-chronometric. Or to put it in plain ...

I’m in Nori’s cafe, sitting on the river side, coffee in one hand, pen in the other, my yellow legal tab on the table. There’s nothing unusual about that, since I do it every day, barring out-of-area travel, out-of-control contagion, or out-of-planet intervention. But a couple of ...

While I can’t remember how old I was when I first read the Jules Verne classic “Around the World in 80 Days” I do remember falling in thrall with its protagonist, Phileas Fogg. Fogg was the perfect British gentleman, who made a 20,000 Pound bet with members of his club that he could ...

I have always loved hole foods. Hold on. Before you become one more of my self-appointed proofreaders/critics like my pal Danny Spada, let me say “hole foods” was not a mistake. Instead, it revers to literal hole foods, namely bagels and doughnuts. When I think of those two, I ...

I’m in Nori’s, about to meet up with my pal, Gary “The Griper” Piper. The Griper got his nickname because in the course of any conversation, regardless or time, place or subject, he will inevitably complain about something. Say you mention the Olympics, in any context, and he’ll go ...