The guy below right is little Michael, fourteen years ago, at the Monaco Grand Prix, which he attended upon an invitation of Glenn, his myst...

Our friend Kate Hardy has a serious novel out with a serious publisher printed as a serious hardcover: The book The author We a...

Please read this...it's only one paragraph  from the London Review of Books connecting our recent Foucault post (by Mr. E.) with our o...

We discussed this before , the Riverside Café in two of its emanations, (1) as a proper river-side café and (2) as a hill-top café in Ph...

(A friend from the East Coast sends this picture:)

Here are our Apple posts concatenated into one story (finally) (this is modern writing, so we start asynchronously): Act II . Somewhere i...

Hans-Werner Henze, 1926 - 2012 He was 86 years old. Instead of an obituary, a fragment from the Green Eyes  (what else), written 2 mon...

"Why, oh why, have beauty spots gone out of fashion?"

Our longest-lasting controversy is about the river-side café , and while I sing about its charms, such as the chilled, oaky, buttery chardon...

And here is the link. Topical! Timely! Director has a campy voice! They used "blond" camels from Egypt, because the local one...

A former minister of finance of France, he had been married to one of the most beautiful, intelligent, and richest women of the country: An...

Terry, our neighbor, and his lovely friend Anne-Carole have invited us to the 7ème Grand Prix de Monaco Historique . We arrive by train. Ter...

"You are not my long-lost half-sister. No-no. Not you!"

We arrive at the Hyatt Harborside next to Boston's Logan airport at 3:30 in the morning (our time). With a valet parking price tag of US...

"Voltaire is a village in Switzerland," the Dutch Crown Prince Willem-Alexander once helpfully explained to his fiancéeeee, the ...

We are still watching the 7ème grand prix historique of Monaco. (Click here for the first part of the story). The champagne flows, more...

Saturday night. The wind howls around the house, the timber creaks, the rain beats on the windows, the sea roars below. The doorbell ring...