Friday, March 21, 2014


Have I yet popped off about the quirky town  of Night Vale and its community radio station? At my age, who can remember what got me sufficiently excited to write about it.  But oh there is excitement of a strange, peculiar and weird kind in that town.  It ain't Lake Wobegon, Minnesota.  Nobody, including the people who live there, whether above or under the streets, knows just where it is.  Or if it is.  Attempting to describe  it is pointless.  You must experience Night Vale in a way that only a podcast can do for you.  You will love it  or scratch your head and mumble "What IS this?  Night Vale is for persons of some perspicacity.  Are you perspicacious  enough?  Did I spell that right?

 Just enter "Night Vale.  You will be taken there.  Oh, one more thing.  You might not return.

Wednesday, March 12, 2014


I guess I should start a blog or sub-blog called "How could I not know."  How could I not know about Nancy Lamott.  I discovered her on Jonathan Schwartz's wonderful Great American Songbook channel on WNYC on the internet. Nancy, from Midland in my home state of Michigan, was called the greatest cabaret singer since Sinatra.  I can't listen to her recordings and think of her story without getting goosebumps, chills, a tear or two and all kinds of strange feelings. She had terrible health problems,  had  an ostomy, continued to sing through it all, was told she needed a hysterectomy.  Put it off, died from cancer at 43.  From her deathbed she asked her boyfriend to marry herA priest performed the wedding 45 minutes before she died. That was ten years ago.  She is still revered by many.  Jonathan Schwartz ends his shows with one of her songs.  How could I not know.