Growing up in suburban Chicago, I didn't listen to country music. It was either my father's symphonic music on WFMT, or my mother's bobby-soxer/50s crooners, or local pop radio on the radio in my room. Occasionally, we'd click past HeeHaw on TV, but we never stayed to watch. I learned early that that wasn't *our*... Continue Reading →
My affection for Merideth Kaye Clark is well documented; her performance of Joni Mitchell's album "Blue," in its precise instrumentation and note-for-note interpretation that somehow flies on its own wings was an absolute joy to behold. I had the good fortune of interviewing her a couple of years ago, and found her warmth and enthusiasm... Continue Reading →
My mom's on my mind today. Probably like a lot of people who've lost their parents. Thanksgiving is especially reminiscent of her because it was often her birthday, which is November 25. The smell of onions and celery and pepper sauteing at 8 a.m. brings to mind my mom, in her floor-length purple "dashiki" robe,... Continue Reading →
Every day, we went to The Sands restaurant in town, where she was friendly with the owners Oli and his wife, and we ate grilled cheese sandwiches and I played PacMan. We went to farmer's markets and thrift stores, the vinyl seats of her enormous white car hot on the backs of my legs.
Tim and I are busily chatting on our personal webpage, sharing anecdotes about our coworkers and local elections and recipes. We sustain contact throughout the day, touching base whenever we have a moment. On days when I'm not working, he's my companion, only a few keystrokes away. He comes home late tonight, the first time... Continue Reading →