Welcome to My World

I have been relentless in my quest for tantalizing tales and by listening to wisdom keepers and sages and turning my own life into an adventure, I have acquired a rich collection.

Join me here weekly and be prepared for a steady diet of yarns and stories that will leave you in tears and laughter and sometimes a bit of both.

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Hotel Nevada

Posted on December 1st, 2011 in Stories

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Hotel Nevada If you ever have the pleasure of traveling the remnants of the Lincoln Highway in Nevada, be sure to make some time for Ely. Like many other night ramblers, I have been seduced by the glow of the lights of this lively town, where there are plenty of places to take a hot [...]

The Big Woods

Posted on November 25th, 2011 in Stories

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In 1979, photographer Zigy Kaluzny and I traveled to the Olympic Peninsula in Washington to do a story about the everyday life of loggers who lived in what they commonly called the big woods. It proved to be a memorable assignment. Although we deplored logging techniques that led to wholesale clear-cutting of ancient timber and [...]

The Blue Horseshoe

Posted on November 18th, 2011 in Stories

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Whenever I think of Mexico, certain images come to mind — bullfights, sunsets the color of enchiladas, Pancho Villa, and, always, tequila. Although I gave up on strong drink many years ago, I still respect the historical and cultural significance of this beverage that for so long has quenched the thirsts of so many people.

Hotel California

Posted on November 11th, 2011 in Stories

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If I decided to move to Los Angeles, I would live in the Chateau Marmont Hotel. This cultural monument overlooking Sunset Boulevard in West Hollywood has provided sanctuary for the famous and the infamous since its doors first opened in 1927.

Hardball

Posted on November 4th, 2011 in Stories

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I was raised on Cardinal baseball. Some of my fondest memories are of listening to a heated game as reported over our trusty radio by the incomparable Harry Carey and later Jack Buck. But even better was when we piled in my Dad’s trusty Plymouth and drove down to Grand Boulevard and Dodier Street to see a game at Sportsman’s Park, a revered site where baseball was played as early as 1867.