“I’ve got tomorrow off,” said Jen-Ex. “You wanna go on an adventure?” “An adventure?” I said. “Where to? Deepest, darkest Africa? Kathmandu? Tahiti?” “Nope,” she said. “Somewhere more exotic.” “Oh?” I said. “And where would that be?” “The garden ...

Last week I did something I rarely do. I left my my mountain lair and traveled to civilization — Portland, Maine. Why Portland? Because that’s where Willie Kendrick, my college bestie from Old Siwash, lives. And what did I do in Portland? Precious little. The purpose of the ...

Our country preserves grudges much better than holidays. Two examples come to mind: Memorial Day and Veterans Day. Veterans Day was originally Armistice Day, commemorating the end of World War I. The truce was declared on the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. So Armistice Day ...

From time to time I’ll run into someone who’ll mention a column I wrote about The Good Ole Days. We’ll talk a bit, mentioning this guy,that gal, and those things. And in the course of our chat, the person’ll say, “How can you remember all that stuff? I can’t.” Well, ...

Half-kidding, I often say I’m a 20th century guy trapped in the 21st century. As I said, half-kidding. Anyone who’d want to go to a mid-20th century dentist would need his head examined more than his teeth. I recall those dentists — and not all that fondly — a bunch of dour ...

When I was in college, all the literature and history majors studied Classical Greece. And there was no debate about it — they were required courses. The thinking behind that was Greece was where it all began, as far as we were concerned — “we” being western civilization. Every ...

Last week I mentioned one of the vicissitudes of aging — memory loss. Maybe the real issue isn’t loss, per se, but degree of loss. It’s a tough number for me to call, due to my being on the horns of dilemma. On the one horn, logically, I know my mind doesn’t work as well as it ...

We’ve all had “one of those days.” But have you ever had “one of those months”? Well, I just got done with one. It started with a mistake in one of my columns. I wrote about how hard it was for me to learn to tell time and I said my mother taught me the big hand told the ...

Last Saturday My Home Town acquitted itself admirably in the field of ethnic celebration. I am referring, of course, to our St. Patrick’s Day parade. There’d be no doubt I’d be there. When any group of my fellow local yokels decides to organize and execute an activity, and are doing ...

This week, the Dope is taking a break from his column, turning it over to his alter ego, The Poet Laureate of Lakeview Deli — Rober Frostbite. Geoffrey Chaucer, the best known poet In English history, Wrote a line, endlessly quoted, That to me’s a mystery. ...

I’ll never forget learning how to tell time. Or more exactly, I’ll never forget struggling to learn how to tell time. I was in second or third grade. I can’t remember exactly because they didn’t teach us how to tell time in school. Back then, they had a quaint notion it was the ...

On the side of his house was a sign my pal Ed Woodward had made. It said, “Any plan, even a poor plan, is better than no plan at all.” Certainly, Ed knew what he was talking about. As a World War II Commodore in the Pacific, he commanded a flotilla of nine Destroyer Escorts. And more ...

My initial contact with the word “fortnight” was in my early teens, and it was love at first read. It’s an old-timey word, at this point probably archaic. Certainly, I never hear it spoken, and any current writing that contains it is probably a bodice ripper. It means a two ...

No two Winter Carnivals are ever the same. There’s always a new theme, new king, queen and court, new folks in town, and the list goes on. But two things almost always happen, from year to year, decade to decade. One happens when Carnival’s over, the dust has settled, and the last ...

Off the coast of Norway is The Mother of All Whirlpools. It’s called the Saltstraumen Maelstrom and is considered the world’s wildest whirlpool. Rumor has it that if any ship gets near its outer ring, it’ll be sucked in and swriled down to Davy Jones’ Locker faster than you can ...

We all know the hassles of Adirondack winter far too well. From icy roads to frozen pipes. From brokedown furnaces in the cellar to ice dams on the roof. From cars that won’t start to dogs that won’t go out. When it comes to winter woes, you name ’em and we’ve got ’em. But my ...

Like every other lost soul on God’s Green Earth, I’m on Facebook. And like every other lost soul on Facebook, I spend too much time there, checking out the swill posted by the too-many groups I belong to. One of last week’s postings from a group that’s about The Good Ole Days ...

Kicked off by the JFK assassination, The Great Age of Conspiracies has pretty much died out. Or maybe more specifically, it hasn’t died out, but a critical mass of its supporters has. RIP. In its wake has followed The Great Age of Experts, which we’re now in the middle of. It is of ...

This Nov. 22 came and went as it has for quite a while — without any fanfare, much less even any mention of the JFK assassination. It always takes me aback. What was probably the focal event of my youth has been relegated to the dustbin of history, which of course is what happens to all of ...

Wednesday afternoon I was sitting in the most comfortable chair in Barb Curtis’s store, my mind a complete blank. This blank state of mind, called “mushin” in Japanese, is highly sought after by Zen Buddhism practicioners, Omega Institute groupies, and pilgrims to Sedona and other ...