I read the book On Bullshit, by Harry Frankfurt, around the time it was published in 2005. Frankfurt determines that BS is speech intended to persuade without regard for truth. The liar cares about the truth and attempts to hide it; the BS’er doesn't care... Continue
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Bending over the drain in front of my house, shoveling dirt and rocks away so the rain could flow through, my neighbor’s huge bulldog, all bulk and muscle, bolted between my legs. I jolted, standing straight up, fluttering an embarrassed request, “How about some help... Continue
Chapter 25: 1946 • Sonora ~ Sundays were family days that were spent reading the newspaper comics, going to church, and calling on relatives. The adults played canasta and bridge; the kids, Monopoly and Chinese checkers. They went for drives and had picnics in the country with... Continue
In Nation magazine, political commentator John Nichols, in an editorial titled “The Mess We’re In,” writes that “the Democrats must bring clarity to a chaotic national discourse that Republicans are gleefully disrupting…” Yes, except we’re all sick with disabling Omicron – may not kill you... Continue
I grew up in the suburbs of New York City where five of us lived in a three-bedroom, two-and-a-half-bath single family home with our dog Bobo and an occasional cat. Behind our backyard was a wooded patch, a ramble of oak, maple, beech, and various... Continue
Ideas propel human society, imagination providing an inexhaustible source of fuel. Boundless in reach, ideas cross borders and influence cultures through networks of communication. Originally networks of communication traveled at the speed of direct transmission, sensory experiences such as touch, physical gesture, the spoken word,... Continue
Chapter 24: mid 1940s • Sonora ~ No Sunday or Holy Day passed without Dad taking the children to Mass. Some Sundays they attended St. Anne's in Columbia, other Sundays they went to Mass in Jamestown. Sometimes they drove to Tuolumne, during summer camping trips they heard... Continue
This morning it is bitter cold. I go out and pick up the newspaper and it is almost a Minnesota, brittle bite of cold that I feel. But, back inside, in our little Springs house, in my favorite chair, with my feet up on an... Continue
I was never much of an athlete as a child. I was well coordinated, and certainly strong enough, but spending hours practicing a sport was not of much interest to me. My grammar school experience didn’t help; in fact, gym class with Mr. D discouraged... Continue
Awed by all we’ve been through, from fire seasons to silent streets with worldwide plague, we wonder what matters. Uncertain about our future, we feel more vulnerable. Questions loom as we reflect on our lives at this turn of the year. We ponder many things,... Continue