Purely on a spring lark the other day, or simple folly, I Google-viewed my old house and garden in Maine and briefly lived to regret it.
We were deep in the mountains last Saturday night, my oldest friend and me, sitting by a large crackling fire under a vault of bright stars, mere yards from one of the finest - and last - true wild trout streams in the East.
Forget the sequester, gun control, even Dennis Rodman's budding bromance with Korea's nuke-happy troll doll Kim Jung Un.
During a recent weekend phone conversation with my daughter, she casually mentioned that she was thinking of checking out Riverside Presbyterian Church some Sunday morning this spring.
I dropped in on Cousin Junior the other day to get his perspective on the news. February has been a rich month for news junkies like me. But listening to human hot-air balloons like Al Sharpton and Bill O'Reilly makes me wish television had never been invented.
On a cold Friday in late January of 1975, I skipped a senior history seminar class at college and drove three hours home to surprise my father for his 60th birthday, bringing him a bottle of his favorite Napoleon brandy.
Frenchman Nicholas Garreau thinks he has me outfoxed in the romance department.
Cassie and Kira, the super-smart, culturally savvy young women who sound as if they're named for classical goddesses and make our office run so brilliantly, sometimes laugh out loud when I throw up my hands over a major vexing computer challenge - like how to turn my laptop back on after a sudden power loss - and declare, "That's it! Get me out of here! By Jove, I belong back in the 19th century!"
Today, as I write this, my mom would have been 93 years old, and I walked a mile or so down the beach to where, half a century or so ago, just this side of the original Johnny Mercer pier, she taught me to swim in a small lagoon on the sound side of the island.
A good friend phoned from his annual spiritual retreat to Florida the other day just to say hello and hear a friendly voice. For a solid month he does nothing more than fast, read books and walk the beach, losing weight and gaining perspective - virtually all in silence.