September 2007
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This Here is a photograph of Coney Island Avenue, the grim commercial thoroughfare along which I crept to school unwillingly like snail between the years 1944 and 1952. The unknown photographer who left us this record stood at the corner of Newkirk Avenue, just in front of the P. S. 217 schoolyard, and pointed his…
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A few nights ago, I attended a performance by our local treasure, the ever-glorious Takacs Quartet. Without asking my leave, they chose to play works by Aarvo Part and Philip Glass. I suppose that there must be virtues to "minimalist" music, but a single motif played over and over again in the same tempo, with…
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A third of the way through Anna Karenina — the finest novel in this or any other universe — Anna's deceived husband Karenin reluctantly brings himself to consult with a famous divorce lawyer. The lawyer was short, stocky, and bald, with a dark, reddish beard, long light eyebrows, and a bulging forehead. He was dressed…
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Even a decade ago, wild turkeys were an utmost rarity, and the sight of one in the distance caused everyone to stop and peer. But each succeeding year, there are more and more of them. They're everywhere — on the roads, in the fields, even under the apple trees, gorging themselves. Last week, a hen…
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The Ranch Restaurant (family-owned, not a chain) in Rochester, Minnesota offered a splendid salad bar. In addition to the conventional fare (greens, onions, tomatoes, peppers, etc.), there were some items that were distinctly regional: herring in wine sauce, baked beans, cherry jello topped with whipped cream, chocolate pudding and also Watergate Salad. Watergate Salad, new…