Class of 16

Class of 16 – To teach is to do nothing more than to share whatever knowledge and experience we gather through the years. The more eager the observer or listener, the better the teacher—and how the hours flew by. My thanks to all from the Art of

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Brothers in the End

I had grown a little weary of weepy, romantic songs that treated conflict, war and tragedy with an ‘if-only-we-could-just-get-along’ kind of sentiment—brushing over genuine struggle as if the writer or singer could wave a magic wand and establish world peace with the mere stroke of the pen

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Forget Vegas—Final Chapter

Between Joe, Pasquale and me, we had exactly five dollars left in the piggy—enough for one day’s motel payment, due that day, two days before Christmas. The fifty dollars my mom sent via Western Union went to Hollywood Florida by mistake. “Nothin’ doin’, other than panhandling on

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Forget Vegas (Part 2)

“Out! I want you out!” screamed Connie Manzo, teacher and head coach of St Rita’s Tigers, my grade-school baseball team. “Why?” I demanded to know, as I approached the team bench all puckered and pouty. “Be-cause-you-day-dream, out there. What is my outfielder doing lying on his back,

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Forget Vegas

I had just talked my way out of my record contract with RCA Canada. Searching for loftier peaks to scale, I decided New York was the place to be. But at eighteen, I was hardly primed for the streets of Manhattan. In 1970 New York was a

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Father and Son

It is a curious thing to look upon an image of your father, he being much younger than you are at present. It puts you in a sort of concerned, parental frame of mind, wanting to leap into the photograph and warn him of the carelessness and

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