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The Neighbours # 142

In 1971 I was living in Severn, Maryland, with a bunch of Air Force friends who worked at NSA. We were only about 20 miles from Annapolis & used to visit a lot. One day I went in a frame shop & saw this print. I fell in love with it, and visited it regularly until I moved away in the fall. A few years later, I was passing through Annapolis & found the same store. The guy said hmmmm, went in the back, & pulled out the picture I had loved. I bought it—the first artwork I ever bought.

Finally, all these years later, I've replaced its cracked plexiglass & cheap poster frame with a good frame, falling in love with it all over again.

When I first saw "The Neighbours # 142" I had never been in a city. Once I moved to New York, I saw how this picture predicted my life. I also never thought to look up the artist, but now that I have—well, I haven't found him yet.  Read More 
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The second degree

Even though there seemed to be more people taking photographs than fighting this morning, I've yet to see one of me. However, even without documentary evidence, I can say that I completed my month(s)-long promotion to nidan (second-degree black belt) this morning. Tired, wired, amazed, grateful, humbled. So much love, so much fun.
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Yogi & me

I have been wondering for years where this picture got to. I moved a small pile this morning & it fell out. That's the writer Ray Robinson on the left. We were at the Montclair Book Fest in about 1994 or '95.

Sitting next to Berra was like leaning into a cliff. I told him I had a dream about coming to clean his house, & he mumbled that his wife wouldn't like that. Did girls have crushes on him in his heyday?  Read More 
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Working girl

An absorbing day of editing, creating, walking around the block, not making a doctor's appointment, buying toilet paper, reading Jude the Obscure, listening to the Staple Singers, talking on the phone for 20 minutes to a friendly woman from the insurance company who told me about her garden, sweeping & mopping my office floor, banging the dust out of the rugs, reminding people that Bonny Finberg & Murat Nemet-Nejat are reading tonight in Prose Pros, gossiping about  Read More 
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My sister Varda

Vee likes containers. She has a nice tasteful 60s house for her collections. It's funny to have known someone when they were too little to have tastes.
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Casey Tibbs

What I remember: Being little, 4 or 5, standing on the front porch of our stucco & brick house at 1503 S. Summit Ave in Sioux Falls, & watching a parade go by, featuring Casey Tibbs, my mother in her early 30s sighing in such a way that I understood she had a crush on him.

The truth: probably none of this, except that he was handsome. Why would there have been a parade on our street? And Tibbs was from South Dakota, so he likely passed through town regularly. Maybe we saw him once at the airport?

Here's the word on him: He was born in 1929, 50 miles northwest of Fort Pierre, South Dakota, in a log cabin on the family homestead on the Cheyenne River. He won six world saddle bronco riding championships in the Professional Rodeo Cowboys Association, a record. He won the association's all-around cowboy title twice and also won one bareback bronco riding championship. For many years, Tibbs wrote a syndicated newspaper column, "Let'er Buck,"  Read More 
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