It finally came. . . a long-awaited package from Amazon.com with one of the most exciting opera video releases in many years- the 1955 “Amahl and the Night Visitors.” And I don’t know if it had something to do with the fact that this was a particularly long and difficulty day - or that the
Will wonders never cease. My father-in-law is finally feeling better tonight, thanks to some sort of space age bombardment which (they hope) has pulverized the 9 mm kidney stone that has been making him so miserable for the last few days. They will x-ray him tomorrow to make sure that the deed has been done,
Well no, not exactly - but that’s what it felt like. One of the perks of my radio job is that every so often I get to interview a bona fide celebrity. . . Alan Alda, Steve Allen, Bob Newheart, Teri Garr, Gene Hackman, etc. Most of the time, I wait until such an interview
Saturday was my father-in-law’s 75th birthday, and one of the things he was most anxious to do was take a good long walk through Petrifying Springs Park. . . and it fell to me to accompany him since Kathy was tied up with some important errands. What felt going in like a modest favor I
The place is Proper Paws University and the class is actually called “Holiday Manners,” and it’s designed for dogs who, if left to their own devices, are likely to turn the house upside down during the holidays. Our big worry with Bobbi is not so much broken dishes as it is broken bones; she greets
What an odd mix yesterday was - a busy morning at the radio station, a full day of lessons at Carthage plus a discussion of Jerome Kern’s “Showboat” in Popular Music in America, and that evening a performance of “Seussical” by Carthage’s musical theater workshop. But sandwiched between the afternoon and the evening was a
Does anything get the heart beating faster than the sound of the phone ringing at 1:00 in the morning? It’s amazing how the mind can race through a plethora of terrible possibilities in the three or four seconds it takes to grab the phone off of the receiver - or delve deeply into one or
We were so glad that our relatives from Milwaukee were able to join us for dad’s big celebration. Ron Barbian was my mom’s cousin- but they were almost the same age, so we’ve always thought of him as Uncle Ron. My mom adored Ron - he was a spectacularly gifted athlete (baseball especially) who was
There’s not much hint of it to judge by his rather grim facial expression, but I’m hoping that this past weekend was one of the happiest and most satisfying of my father’s life - and I’m pretty sure it was. It was the celebration of his 75th birthday (about a month after the actual occasion)
So it’s a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in Madison, and Henry and Kaj are about to tear up Dad and Sonja’s condo with their pent-up energy. . . stirred up at least in part by the SpongeBob Squarebacks nerf-like footballs that Kathy and I gave to each of them upon our arrival the night before. So
