[Phil’s grandfather Johnny Foard was the other friend we lost this week. He was nearly ninety, a fine country musician, fiddler, and former professional hunter. Phil is in South America but sent this eulogy–SB.] I’m sorry I’m not there. Selfishly, I’m sorry I’m not there. I’m sorry I can’t see the outpouring of respect for …
Author: Phillip Grayson
In That New York
Phillip here, after a long silence caused by being in one place, I’m about to head out again, and hope to pester you more in the months to come. Thought I’d send a little goodbye/hello before I left. My grandfather fought in Germany. Not as a boxer, but as a soldier. After the war, he …
Beloved, Numbered Wolf Killed!
Salondotcom, which I understand to be relatively widely read, is a fairly sloppy place, or at least seems that way, given the high production values of its web design, which contrasts quite a bit with the writing therein. That’s not here or there, but they do have a theoretically interesting article about the removal of …
Swan song, etc
Me, ever since I saw my grandpa chop a chicken’s head off (complete with the runnin’ ’round spectacle that followed) one day, and then the next day saw him chop of a rattlesnake’s head (with the follow-up warning that the head was still deadly, for a long time after life itself was gone), I’ve been …
That Vienna
Spent a week in Vienna, thankfully away from all those hideous Englishmen (wink wink, just kiddin’ ha ha), saw all manner of good stuff, a Monet to Picasso show that was an education (not to mention awesome and gorgeous and amazingly empty) a Durer exhibition that was sort of religious, a Max Ernst show that …
2,000 Poles Walk into a Bar
Okay, kids, let’s talk ’bout that Krakow, aka Cracow, which is wierd if you know that ‘C’s in Polish are pronounced like ‘ts’ in English. So this city has two vastly different names. Cracow is prefered by graffiti artists, which caused me to think for a sec that it was an alternate, Anglicized spelling used …
I’ve Just Finished a Month sans Internet and TV
I’ve just finished a month sans internet and tv. No saintly action, just a broken hardrive and an incomprehensible language, respectively.So I read every book I brought. Ran out fast.One of the books I brought was this monstrosity of a thing called The Executioners Song. I’d seen the film adaptation (loose use of ‘adaptation’), Cremaster …
In the Land of 40-Year Strolls
We fly into the vast devil of the Mid East with this first: a gorgeous verdant beach with the gorgeous Med right there and filled with tiny flawless empty islands, something you couldn’t help but call perfect if you didn’t know you were about 100 miles north of Beirut and risking being shot to shit, …
Dzien dobry from Polski…or something
As a so-called ‘foreign’ correspondent, yours’ truly feels a very mild need to be odd, to be, as it were, foreign. At first, this seems a very easy thing to be in Eastern Europe, specifically, in rural Poland. Gone, for sure, is America, and gone, even, is the cosmopolitanism of Istanbul, which has the grace …