Cats and God
People either believe in God or they don’t. This is an attempt to simply raise the question “Is it possible?” I am a believer, always...
The Story Behind the Stories (Part Eight)
Los Angeles in the mid 70’s was a magnificent city. It was the good old days when criminals were arrested, tried, and incarcerated. While...
No Expectations, No Disappointments
In Loving memory, Archbishop Nicola Rotunno, 12/1/1928 – 2/8/1999 Archbishop Nicola Rotunno was the Apostolic Nuncio to Burundi, Rwanda...
The Story Behind the Stories (Part Seven)
Resilience is born from defeat. You have two choices in life when you’ve been knocked flat on your butt -- and lying there was never an...
Of Course I Carry a Gun
I have legally carried a concealed weapon for 12 years now – my four CCW permits allow me to carry in 38 states. My history with firearms...
The Story Behind the Stories (Part Six) aka On Being Agile
I was told from as early as I can remember that my mission in life was to grow up to become a doctor. All Jewish boys are doctors or...
Paybacks are a Bitch
My first cat was named after my friend Tommy Cromack, who lived on Third Ave. Tommy was a blond haired, blue-eyed-all-American boy. He...
Love to Eat, Eat to Love
Food is sacred to me. Once in Los Angeles many moons ago, my wife and I visited our favorite Thai restaurant (Chan Dara) and requested a...
Vacation Begins
(Author’s note: This is a verbatim transcript from a written journal I kept on a vacation {circa 1982}. Aside from a few punctuation...
Moses ain’t got nothin’ on me…
I like the word torrential and have been able to use it in a sentence three times. It had been raining constantly all day. It was one of...
The Story Behind the Stories (Part Five)
Paris was a wonderous place to visit in the summer of 1970. After a semester abroad in Munich, I began travelling and wound up here –...
Me and the Mafia
Anyone raised in Northeastern Pennsylvania (NEPA) in the 50’s has at least a passing recognition of the name Russel Bufalino. When I was...
I Lied, Twice…
Once you get good at something, it’s easy to become arrogant about your skills and their value. When I entered the photojournalism...
The Story Behind the Stories (Part Four)
For about fifteen years after moving to the desert to pursue photography I made weekly trips into Los Angeles to study the martial arts...
The Story Behind the Stories (Part Three)
1972 found me back in Syracuse a year after graduation. I started travelling west earlier in the year but only made it as far as...
The Story Behind the Stories, (Part Two)
I was nearly winded escaping from my new fiancée and her parents in the train station outside of Paris. I managed to find the first...
The Story Behind the Stories (Part One)
It was early summer of 1971. I was back in Kingston and chomping at the bit for some adventure. I called Tinker and Sally down in...
Thanks for the Memories…
Music is transformative. It has the power to elevate the soul above the fray of the day-to-day faster than almost anything else we...
Cold hands, warm heart, lousy at smuggling…
It was 1986 and Sasha was barely a year old. Phyllis found a wonderful housekeeper, Julie H. Julie was from El Salvador, and if you...
Three quarters of a second (a work of fiction)
{While I actually have been attacked by three men simultaneously, this isn’t that} I could see the punch coming. If the yahoo had...