Tag Archives: JFK
War Wounds
Forgive your enemies, but always remember their names. John F. Kennedy I saw my X on the street who startled me to say the least, seeing instantly how his alcoholism has escalated. His clothes were rumpled, he needed a … Continue reading
Happy Birthday Mrs. Kennedy
July 28, 1929 – May 19, 1994 Jacqueline Bouvier Kennedy Onassis would have been 89 years-old today.
Christmas, Jackie and the Unexpected
This is interesting. It all began last Christmas assuming I wouldn’t be getting any presents. My two best friends I exchanged gifts with for years are both gone. And as you may recall, Camille and I weren’t speaking. Throw in, … Continue reading
Happy Birthday Mrs. Kennedy
Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis would have been 85 on July 28th. When I walked by her old building (1040 Fifth Avenue), something I do often, I suddenly started to think about her. I had just told a friend how, when she … Continue reading
Words Become Us
Eloquent: to be versed or fluent in speech. Articulate, expressive and glib. Vivid, lucid, lofty and smooth-tongued. Effective, persuasive – holding sway. Having great power or influence over a particular person, place, or domain… being well-expressed. To put it simply…to … Continue reading
Crashing To Earth
I’m coming off medicine. It feels as if I’ve been launched by NASA, just without a suit. I stayed on Prednisone longer than I should have hoping it would do its magic without too much harm. Of course, you don’t … Continue reading
Prince Of Camelot
When John Kennedy Jr. went missing two days before my 45h birthday, my Italian kicked in right away. Unlike the rest of America, I knew there was little hope. The Prince of Camelot was gone adding to the myth of … Continue reading
The Man On The Couch
Every day possible I go to the library to read for an hour, a favorite pastime of mine. Where else can you find guaranteed peace and absolutely no cell phone use. One feels as if they’re stepping back in time … Continue reading
When History Walks By
I went for a long, early morning stroll on Christmas Day. Nothing was open, the streets were still. It’s the one day a year one could cut the silence with a cleaver. As I was coming from the West Side … Continue reading