East is East and West is West, and the wrong one I have chose. Bob Hope sang these thoughts in the 1948 “Paleface.” And 6 ½ decades later, I am musing upon their essential truth. To put a finer point on this, the east chose me. Our move to San Francisco is still unfolding. The leaves of our Brussels sprouts are not only unfolding, but reorienting. They face south every morning, I realize, looking down on them from our terrace. And they face south because south is actually east. Of course, Read more [...]


Thanksgiving. And as there is much to give thanks for, and the older I get the more I appreciate ritual…yes, I say, let us celebrate. Though in a strange way, I will end up celebrating on my own. Somehow there isn’t much “we” in Thanksgiving’s meal ritual. Everyone seems a bit confused about the purpose…except the built in celebration of the family. Not that this isn’t quite splendid. The survival of family ties, the survival of the family members. Let us give thanks. But let me Read more [...]