Sixty-one is a fine time to be in the sun.

I run the race as if to win. What boy has not dreamed about being the ultimate practioner of his cause? For some of us that ideal was interupted by the urgency of survival way back when we were tiny. Our laughter ended as we heard curses and taunts then felt pain. Only when alone did we have time to enjoy the freedom of thought that might have led to a dream. That of course had no practice. It was just theory. sometimes even prayer was blocked out by the tumbling phrases of surses and humming or phrasing of radio jingles and songs. The roar of a TV tuning in led to a blare of unfamiliar voices. Only in the dark movie theater did we dare to imagine an ultimate practitioner. Celebrities were our friends entering and leaving in exagerated scale and impossible human relationship.

The heat of the moment.

How I approached my teen years and the threat that had defined this as the border of life.

While You were Out

What I did to bide my time while waiting to live a normal life of academic freedom and fruitfulness.

Scantily clad Needs a Fashion Consultant.

The reality of my lady friend.