Beyond the Garden Gate

One of my first memories is of a huge Victorian on McAllister Street near Fillmore in San Francisco where my family lived…

Hearts

1968 Zen was in. I tried without success to master ‘living in the now.’ 1998 Now, of course, it is simple. Living…

The Working Stiff

It’s been eight years since his death, but I can still see him and hear him, a wiry, gray-haired, hawk-nosed man. I…

The Cruelest Months

Spring is in the air, and like a toe-tapping number from Englebert Humperdink the effect of the fledgling sun and crocus balm is to coax us mortals into passionate, beautiful malevolence.…

Anatomy of a Blackball

Stop me if I’m whining, but as long-time readers are aware, quite a number of local tax funded agencies and quasi-public agencies…

Living Close to the Land

“I was born December 3rd 1918 right down the road,” Wayne McGimpsey begins, taking a quick look out the large picture window…