The email arrived one day recently in my in-box from Glasgow, Scotland: Did you know, it said, that a letter your friend Sister Mary Pellicane sent to Charles de Gaulle is on sale on eBay in London? Um ... no. What?
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As we settle into self-containment and life constricts to several rooms, I wish to look around and note folks still publishing worthy original content online. Back in the Days of Yore, pre-Plague, when we were all young and innocent and didn't tweet-rage or sh*tpost, there were these things called 'blogs.'
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Sometimes, nothing else will take your mind off crappy news of the day than Ann Magnuson channeling David Bowie. I've been combing through my old video archives and seeing what's worth preserving and—as an old therapist liked to tell me—"lifting up" for your attention.
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Sister Mary Pellicane has been at the business of being a nun—and being alive—a long while. On the occasion of her 98th birthday, meet this still feisty, still questing nun's life story.
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There's a wheelchair and a guy in it at the end of the sidewalk. It's an old chair, not those fancy Millenium Falcon chairs you see. An old guy, with skin weathered like an ancient saddle...
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The 10-year-old Joe Turner watched, dumbstruck, as the jet fighter raced up the Kanawha River and then UNDER a bridge. Now, that was a job to have.
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Robert Singleton had settled on painting clouds. Then, he stopped, hollowed out by too many deaths helping dying friends from his training with Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. One day, a German musician stumbled on his site. And everything changed.
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