HARRY AND ME

. . . a few moments after Harry was born.  I had just snipped off his umbilical cord with surgical scissors.  (It seemed to have the texture of lightly boiled calamari.)

Harry's dad Rich had been working in a distant city when Harry decided to make his appearance.  Rich jumped on a plane and would have arrived in plenty of time for the birth if his flight hadn't gotten delayed at a stopover en route.  So I had to pinch hit as delivery room companion for my sister Lee.  I quickly realized that my biggest duty was not to faint.  Things were harrowing at times but the conclusion was exhilarating.

There is no other experience quite like holding a newly-born baby in your arms.

Harry turned 18 this summer.



We are still friends.

RABBITEASE


                                                                                                                                               [Photo © 2011 Kendra Elliott]

This image by Kendra Elliott perfectly sums up my impression of every strip club I have ever visited, with the possible exception of The Crazy Horse in Paris.

For more strange images of New York nightlife by Kendra, visit her photo blog:

Kendra.Elliott Photo

IT'S A WRAP

Toronto, 1987, wrap party for the movie Gotham, starring Tommy Lee Jones, on the right, and featuring Kevin Jarre, who died this year, on the left, in the Perfecto motorcycle jacket.  I'm in between them, with the cigarette.  Those were the days, eh?  I mean, the days when you could smoke a cigarette in a bar in some other city than Las Vegas, Nevada . . .

PLUS ÇA CHANGE

1871

. . . plus c'est la même chose.

2011

But don't forget that the depredations of the “trusts” and the political machines in the late 19th Century brought on the progressive reforms of Teddy Roosevelt, the most crucial of which was recently gutted by the Supreme Court in Citizens United, a decision that cannot stand, any more than the Dred Scott decision could stand — and a new era of reform will dawn for us, too, as soon as we get rid of the false progressives, like that empty suit in the White House.


I say it so it must be so.

THE SEA AGAIN

My uncle is in the foreground — this was his fishing boat, kept at Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina.  Just over his shoulder is my sister Lee, clutching onto my dad, with the pipe.  I'm standing to Dad's left.  I was eight years old at the time, then as ever happy to be in, on or near the ocean.

THE SEA, THE SEA

Dad, reinvigorated on a trip to the seaside.  It was the last time he saw the ocean, the last time he felt raindrops.  With his granddaughter Nora and our friends Mary and Paul Zahl.