Arthur DayI was born in Baltimore but did not yet know about the Orioles and left the cheering to others. I was brought up in Hartford Ct. and cheered the Whale while it made its home in the Connecticut River. I spent three years in the army learning how to cook Army style and a smattering of German. To this day Bratwurst and Weiswurst are among my favorite foods along with Jack Daniels (don’t tell me that’s not a food), rib eye steaks, my wife’s veal Milanese, my oldest daughter’s pies and veggie dishes.

I was a child of the sixties but then, married the lady of the lake, learned to wear a tie, lost my hair and continued to cheer the Dolphins while raising a family and cooking egg foo yung (eggs, English muffin, and bacon all jumbled together) on weekend mornings in Vermont while the mist slowly thawed on the garden outside the kitchen window.

And yes there was writing. I wrote songs for one daughter and poems for another. I left breadcrumbs of crumpled paper behind me as I traveled along the only trail I knew while conjuring up other paths and other lives, times of pain and glory, stories of folks doing the best they could. I wrote trunk novels and consigned them to the dark depths of cardboard storage boxes. One reviewer noted that there was too many “had” sentences. Tense problems. I had not thought about that and corrected my writing. I worked on the guitar but was never a musician but music weaves its spell within me even now as tunes echo through my mind during my morning walks through the roads of suburbia where dogs bark and sprinklers hiss through the summer sunrise and folks wave on their way to work and the air smells of gas fumes the fresh bark mulch.

The kids got older. I hung a towel over the bathroom mirror. The winters seemed a lot colder than the ones in my memory. I began to get email with getting-old jokes. I pressed DELETE.

To those of you who visit this site I say welcome and thank you for your adventurous spirit. Join me in a journey that has no end, a tale of life that stretches back millennia and will continue into the mists of the future. Sometimes I hope you will laugh, sometimes cry, sometimes love what you read and (not too often I hope) sometimes hate it. Those of you who find me come join me and let’s see what life is made of and enjoy every damned minute of it.