For about twenty years, until his death in 2006, I was good friends with a writer named Richard Atcheson. He had an impressive career with some big magazines as an editor. I came to know him when he was older and adrift. He sat around his apartment in the nude chain-smoking and talking, talking, talking. … Continue reading Dickie Honey
THE MAGNOLIA UNDER GLASS Lobutcha, Mississippi - 2003 Okay. Guess I should say something. The traffic outside sounded like surf. A maid was pushing a squeaky cart down the hall. Someone was filling an ice bucket. Suddenly she twisted from beneath him, ran into the bathroom and slammed the door. The rings scraped and the … Continue reading The Magnolia Under Glass
My father tells the following story of some of his adventures as a high school-aged boy in the late 1940s. He grew up in Kosciusko, Mississippi, a small town in the middle of the state built around a square. I’m gonna tell you about something that happened just about one block off the square to … Continue reading Pool Halls and Mayor’s Courts
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=yWmie2ZTggU I’m always happy when something strikes me as “Southern.” My sister works in a retirement home in Ridgeland, Mississippi. A 95-year old resident gave her a little frosted-plastic, crystal-looking Christmas tree to sit on her mantle. Inside it, a soft glowing light gently cycles through the color spectrum. My sister said that the next … Continue reading Southern Subjectivity
I experience a specific, subtle pleasure when I get off the subway taking my son to school in downtown Brooklyn. Our stop is Jay Street on the F. We exit onto Willoughby. When I first stood on that corner looking across the street at the big signs for CRICKET (former disposable cell phone store now … Continue reading Curious George City
Most time travel stories are about performing surgery on the past to fix the present. Rewriting history. Destroying the doomsday device. Stopping the assassination that triggers World War III. This is a pretty basic wish for everyone – to fix the past. I’m heaving into the toilet and remember eating that questionable sushi. If I … Continue reading time travel
I’m back in my beloved Hotel Monteleone. I fly back to Brooklyn in the morning. Instead of strolling over to Pirate’s Alley as I had intended, I never left the Carousel Bar downstairs. I clicked around a full 360 degrees four times, one tall Maker’s for each trip. In the mirror behind the bartender, I … Continue reading Down and Out in the Monteleone
