BACKBEAT I came late to rock ‘n’ roll. In the late 1950s and early ‘60s, when the rhythm and blues of Bo Diddley, Chuck Berry, The Big Bopper, and other black musicians merged with the sound of white country-music singers, largely due to the unique talent of a certain Elvis Aron Presley, I was into
This piece is part of a longer essay I wrote in June of 2006 about a trip my wife and I took to Florence in July of 2006. I offer it now, in February, 2020, to honor Saint Valentine. My sticky-notes in the Blue Guide marked the Orsanmichele, a massive, oddly-shaped building built by Florence’s
Three Years Later The First Day Nones “He’s crazy,“ Geraut said. He was hunched next to Jannequin, both of them wrapped in their cloaks with their hoods pulled down to their noses, backs against the rough front slats of the cart, trying to doze as the old mule plodded along. Eastertide had come late that
Three Years Later The First Day Nones “He’s crazy,“ Geraut said. He was hunched next to Jannequin, both of them wrapped in their cloaks with their hoods pulled down to their noses, backs against the rough front slats of the cart, trying to doze as the old mule plodded along. Eastertide had come late that