The holidaze roll on. Dina Martina last week, with people I treasure; when she sang "Merry Chrishmush" my friend had his arm around me and I felt so grateful for our little posse that I couldn't help but cry a little. Not one but two Hannukkah dinners, complete with latkes and matzoh ball soup. A day of football at a fun friend/neighbor's apartment, with food and beer and laughs and smokes and a view of the Needle and downtown. The fam in town, for PNB and gifts and hanging out over pizza and bean dip. Xmas Eve drinks at the Five Point with my buddy, grieving the loss of his father. We raised a glass to the legendary old gentleman. In the background, PeeWee's Playhouse Christmas special played on the bar TV. Xmas morning pajama party at another friend/neighbor's place, egg bake and Miller High-Life and lots of laughs, before a relaxed day with my sisters and nieces and a bro-in-law and my fella. Yesterday, an unplanned walk downtown in the cold sun, thrift shopping with a pal, Campari and soda and then one more little shindig last night. Today I settle down to write and reflect.
There's a shadow constantly hovering at my shoulder. For all my gallivanting into the social whirl, nevermind the positive social media...
Ever wondered what it takes to get a piece of fiction published? I'm not talking New Yorker type of prose. That's a rarefied world ...
Check out my new video, a brief reading from a story published this past spring in Opossum.
Welp, after a half-year experiment in social media, BSP has returned to its blogger roots. I hated Faceborkland, tbh. Sure, it was easier t...