Friday, July 10, 2020

Thursday, July 9, 2020


me in 2002, post cancer operation, at my 60th birthday party, between two of my best, longtime, dear friends, poets Simon Pettet and Annabel Lee (in another best, longtime, dearest friend Karen Allen's back yard)

Monday, July 6, 2020


I just learned that one of the loves of my life has passed. Lora Somoza was also one of the most intelligent, most beautiful, most hilarious, and most unique humans I've ever known. We weren't "boyfriend and girlfriend" for very long and it was many years ago, but we never ceased reaffirming our love for each other and how much we missed being together every time we saw each other or spoke on the phone or connected through comments on Facebook and other communications. I loved her from the moment we met and always will, and as devastated as I am by the news I can't imagine the pain her father and mother, who she adored, must be going through. My condolences to them and all her family and friends and loves. God do we all miss you already and always will.

Thursday, July 2, 2020


I've posted this photo before but I love it so much here it is again. Taken during WWII which ended The Great Depression so folks looking flush despite the wartime rationing. Me in my mother's arms with two aunts to my left who also lived on our street. My mother's mother next to her then my two oldest brothers, one in the Army Air Corps, the other soon to join The Navy, next to them a great aunt and my father's immigrant Irish mother. Down front another brother and my father in the fedora with one of my sister's on his knee, two cousins beside her and another sister. So me and my five living siblings (another died as an infant) and my parents lived in this house and my maternal grandmother and that great aunt would soon be living with us too! The joint was always jumping.

Tuesday, June 30, 2020


I didn't know him personally, but he's been a presence in my life since he was part of the ensemble of writer/performers on Sid Caesar's YOUR SHOW OF SHOWS on 1950s TV and on comedy records with Mel Brooks in the 1960s. He kept his sense and his sense of humor for his 98 years, who could ask for anything more. Condolences to his family, friends, and fans, especially his daughter, Annie, a friend to me in my L.A. years and a fine poet. Here's some lines from her poem "Weightless" that make a perfect epitaph, I think, for her father:

"Forget history
and all your past accomplishments.
Forget your failures.
The memory of the race will find you.
When you hear it you'll know
the whole thing is just a poem."

—Annie Reiner