writing
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I played the guitar as a young man. I had reached a point where I could pick and strum like someone capable of mastering the instrument. By age ten, my teacher, Vito Spioto, had me playing Paganini Caprices, although they were abridged versions. Anyway, I had discovered a fondness for classical music, and when I…
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The odds makers gave me very little chance. In fact, they placed my chances of emerging victorious at a big, fat zero. But those odds makers didn’t know my people—their heart, their fortitude. And thank goodness for the wisdom of Mr. Paine. Trust me when I tell you, there went a fellow who knew a…
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It has been well documented that there has been a sharp uptick in anxiety and depression as a result of the Covid 19 virus, the way the disease was handled, the vaccine, or all three. Marry that issue to the day’s sexual politics, which have sent young men and women into neutral corners where they…
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Late one afternoon, shortly before the happy hour was about to begin, a man, who one might apply the descriptors “Seasoned” and “Worldly,” strolled into a village pub. He was aged yet elegant, this man who had lived in many places, was currently residing in America, and vacationing abroad. His long, tweed coat and duck-billed…
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I have a quote that I’d like to live by. Unfortunately, I don’t stick to my guns as often as I should. Anyway, it goes something like this: “My time isn’t yours to waste.” If there was ever a quote that ends up DOA no sooner than one exchanges their marriage vows, it’s that one.…
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Dear Miserly Old Prick, In the event that you’ve lost track of time (doubtless you have; it’s a symptom of living too long), it’s 2062, and you’re 100 years old. Congratulations. But are congratulations in order? Should longevity count as an accomplishment? Let us examine the situation, shall we? Presently, you’re enjoying life with the…
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I’m a basic man, a conservationalist in my accepted wisdoms, who practices the art of minimalism. I am also a salt-of-the-earth Italian who believes in attacking matters one at a time and correctly. Some call it OCD; I call it focus. If I’m doing something, rest assured, it is not a frivolous whim but a…
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A brainstorm, an open pasture, a few good friends, and whatever became of Alexander Joy Cartwright? Baseball is not a fast-paced game, but it is sudden. Often, we can’t see baseball coming; it just happens—the game’s defining moments come and go like a flicker of light, bringing instantaneous and unexpected joy and crushing heartbreak without…
Michael's Corner 