Old-timers talking at the cafe: "Hey, you see that hahrah film? That byoo-di-ful pungkin really went through the warsher." Ah, a lovely dialect slowly disappearing into obscurity. I had a neighbor many years ago who was a salty old dog and he talked the old-timey way. I wish I had been a word collector back... Continue Reading →
There is a lot of noir in San Francisco. Not only what's on its fog stained surface, but in its raw, marrow filled bones. The gold digging hooligans and glassy-eyed dames that worked these streets suffered to make it what it is, they suffered big time in this little city. The darkness, rankness and seething... Continue Reading →
One good thing about having a somewhat un-renovated house is that you find good old trash tucked in the walls and corners of your basement. Good looking artifacts from another time. To some, crinkled up cards and old bottle caps crusted with dirt are trash, but it's pure treasure to me. Some of the finds tell... Continue Reading →
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