Oh Groundhog, My Groundhog

read more…: Oh Groundhog, My Groundhog

The home of Punxsutawney Phil in Pennsylvania is not easy to get to, either, not being on the way to someplace or other. You have to want to go there. And yes, about 10,000 souls descended on Punxsutawney yesterday, as they annually do, to bear witness to Phil the groundhog’s winter predictions.

Remembering a decent man

read more…: Remembering a decent man

I’m usually not one to wax philosophical about politicians, but there is one who stands out and played a pretty important role at a key moment in my life.

Manchester’s Bob Baines passed away Friday. He was the city’s mayor from 2000-2006.

Searching for the impossible (or at least unlikely); or, adventuring to Maine to find Yeti poop

read more…: Searching for the impossible (or at least unlikely); or, adventuring to Maine to find Yeti poop

For months and months now, Little Bean and I have been eyeing the International Cryptozoology Museum (ICM) up Portland way, and we decided as a family to head up there for my daughter’s birthday. Even the lady of the house came, putting aside her curious suspicions that the poop was not real Yeti poop, to join us. We’re very proud of her.

Transcendental Dad: The Birdhouse Man, Part 1

read more…: Transcendental Dad: The Birdhouse Man, Part 1

Buffalo’s East Side is a wreck. When the majestic (and now abandoned) Buffalo Central Terminal was built in the 1920s, it tore the neighborhood apart and signaled the area’s slow decline from thriving ethnic neighborhood to neglected urban decay. Today, the neighborhood spills over onto the broken sidewalks and dirty streets like it’s been punctured, like the houses and yards and churches are all open, bleeding wounds.

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