Tag Archives: Keeping a sane prospective

At the Crack of Doom

New York, to put it mildly, is a minefield of worry. My doormen now all wear gloves, so they look like nervous, though still very polite, penguins. My halls are empty. Even Patrick the cat is layin’ low. He should … Continue reading

Posted in Culture, Faith, humanity, humor, New York City, words, writing | Tagged , , , , | 45 Comments