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It’s Alan Flusser Week in Washington, D.C.
God called me this morning. Really. I kid you not. On the phone. Not THAT God. The other one. Crazy I know but…the phone rang and I said… “Hello” and God said… “What’s wrong with your email” and I...
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Attention Deficit Disorder Country Ass Meets the Hovey Sisters
On a lighter than usual note…happy Sunday. I figured that it was time for some randomanalia and irreleventia for a change. You know, some impertinence—like the old days. The infrequency of my stories...
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Sunday Ennui
The silence. Is killing me. And you people tell me this is gonna last for another four-plus years. I won't make it.
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Bo-Bos and Woo-Woos
Since I still can’t seem to muster enough energy to write my usual drivel and since I’ve essentially retired from storytelling but just haven’t announced it, I figured I’d throw some half-ass stuff up...
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A Buckhead Boy
A Buckhead Boy He was a man in full. Kinda low-key though. In a cardigan sweater. He was a doctor but he’d be the first to tell you that he couldn’t cure a damn thing. And he had an affection for...
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Aviator Chairs and Grades
My little girl. My heart. The little bald headed toddler who used to feed me bits of bread so that I'd behave at the table……the little gregarious gal who swaggered around a honky tonk in South...
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Soixante-neuf and an Open Letter to Pat Conroy
Soixante-neuf…Sixty-nine. As much as I flirt with alternatives, I end up wearing a navy blazer sixty-nine percent of the time. Rain or shine, summer or winter, it’s a navy damn blazer for me. And I’ve...
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Turkey Miscellany—Conroy-Meermin-and Stein Mart Serpentining
*It’s Sunday morning December 1st. I began this little ditty on Thanksgiving morn but never got around to finishing it. I’m back in Bethesda now and LFG is again with her mom so the deafening silence...
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Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,Black as the Pit from pole to pole,I thank whatever gods may beFor my unconquerable soul.In the fell clutch of circumstanceI have not winced nor cried aloud.Under the...
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Holiday Miscellany
And miscellany this shall be. Shut up.Oh…but before you shut up and I take over; let me pop this story with something sartorial. Because it seems like that’s what this venue used to focus on. I need to...
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Christmas 2013
It’s almost eight o’clock on Christmas Eve morning and I’ve just returned from Dulles airport and dropping LFG and her mom off for their flight to Florida. This was my year to have LFG for the...
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The Grubworm
I’ve written about my Aunt Kat on a few occasions over the years. She passed away a few years ago and I miss her terribly. My mom is the youngest of ten kids...my Aunt Kat was the next youngest and all...
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Vineyard Vines—My Take
A tumblr follower asked… “Have you taken a gander at the merchandise in the Vineyard Vines Georgetown store yet? What do you think of the company's duds? It seems kind of expensive for stuff made in...
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Gentlemen of Style – Men’s Fashion Illustrations in the US in the Thirties
If my CasaMinimus was on fire, after I got Roxanne Burgess dressed and out the door, one of the next things I’d grab and sling off the balcony would be my cache of Apparel Arts books. The MSRP on those...
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I Have Nothing To Say
So listen up. If you’ve read my drivel for any length of time you might remember the randomanalia posts. Well really--all of them are random to a great degree but I used to pile on a huge load of...
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Happy Birthday LFG
You are not thirteen years old...you are not thirteen years old...you are not thirteen years old...you are not thirteen years old...you are not thirteen years old...you are not thirteen years old...you...
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No Vacation...
...goes unpunished. Cheers from DCA...surprise I know. Green bags...Navy Blazer......As I sit here sporting my retooled Alden Algonquins avec Dainite soles. B. Nelson will, for two-hundred and fifty...
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John and Julian—Part One
Julian was the oldest and I’m told he was the better looking one. John, the lanky younger brother was quiet. Not brooding but perhaps a bit more than just shy.Everyone signed up for the war—city boys...
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John and Julian Part Two
It’s a skilled nursing facility—this place that now harbors my mom. So there’s a scattering of humanity in all phases therein. It’s a place for transition...rapid for some and not soon enough for...
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