I would liked to have lived in the day of the “EXTRA.” And “read all about it” is just what I would have done.

How sweet, the old film montage of spinning front pages and out-sized fonts, and all those scruffy dead-end kid hawkers.

How cool to cop the ink-stained recent, throw a nickel on the counter for a cup of Joe, and peruse the latest symptoms of the human condition through the lazy smoke of a Lucky Strike.

After about a year of pout and promise to post here no more, when the money came due, I decided to up the ante. Go figure.

I’ll dribble out the whys of my doubling down presently, but for now, a slow roll of reconfiguring this site commences. And it might take a while, as options and toggles are a bit different.

And I begin with the poesy, as a poem a day in April is to get in the way of baseball’s opening day, but what me worry; those Cubs be a lock. Wire to wire, I see.

See ya.

An informal collection of verse, short fiction, impressions, and complaints. Notes on American politics and government. Thoughts on media and communications. Quick takes on popular culture, bourbon, and baseball. And the occasional look back.

A personal post. Ad free. Comment free. It’s just all about me, and what I see after three score and ten. And given those numbers, I posting in black and white, as my mood now tends to the monochromatic. And that’s dramatic, but the real story is, the world is a motley place, and on the cusp of dotage, I still want to crayon. Carry on.