Friday, May 30, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Shelby IA
This is the Cornstalk Cafe's special for May 25, broasted chicken with beans, mashed potatoes, and roll. As a young reporter in 1958, I wrote a series on people who worked 8-10hour night shifts--cops, er physicians, janitors, and a taxi cab driver. I was with the cabbie for six hours and except for the strange 2-hour fare to a whorehouse in Canton, it was pretty uneventful. That gave Guido plenty of time to describe his ambition to start the first broasted chicken shack in Akron. "No one around these parts knows about broasting chicken. You combine roasting and broiling technologies and voila! you get a broasted chicken. I'll be rich in no time. Don't write this part in your article, okay?"
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Friday, May 23, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Friday, May 16, 2008
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Monday, May 12, 2008
May 12, 2008
The grocery store in our neighborhood, a working class neighborhood, is unaccountably upscale. The priciest in town, with carpeted floors and smartly groomed baggers. In the men's loo, a bouquet of fresh floors every day. Still, it makes sense to check from time to time because our neighborhood shows other signs of decline.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Thursday, May 8, 2008
May 8, 2008
Abbie and LaVona just became friends at the neighborhood coffee house. He saw her showing a clerk how to improve handwriting, asked if he could have a lesson too. In exchange, he will teach her Somali cooking. He works with the local high school as a mediator between school officials and Somali students.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Monday, May 5, 2008
Sunday, May 4, 2008
May 4, 2008
My offering to the gods on this fine Spring day. Not much, but it's been a tight year. Take it or leave it.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Friday, May 2, 2008
Thursday, May 1, 2008
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Dec. 28, 2007
In the waning years of WW II, we were living in Rockville Center, Long Island, I was about 12 and dad was dying of a brain tumor. Mom said NYC was no place for a widow to bring up a child, so she packed us up and we took a train to her childhood home in Detroit Lakes Minnesota. That's where she met and married this widower. He was a clothing salesman and outdoorsman.
Dec. 27, 2007
Hamburger at Petes Place