When my father was about the age I am now, he told me that he had begun to hear music in his head. I’m not sure whether he was troubled by this intrusion or bemused by it. My father was not musical in any way beyond the music of the synagogue. The fact that he was not exposed to music in his hard scrabble family shaped the atmosphere in which I was raised. We did not own a phonograph and when the...
This is a big week for Rosellen and me. March 16th will mark our 60th wedding anniversary and I would be remiss not to make that the subject of this week’s blog post. Our weekend was filled with celebrations, one day with the members of our beloved Jewish community and one day with family and some of our dearest friends. I’m writing this on March 15th, a day before our actual anniversary date...
In the darkest days of the pandemic, many of us, especially those without any other identifiable talents, retreated to the kitchen for diversion. This wasn’t a new beginning for me, just an intensification of activities that were already part of my regular routine. I’ve been baking bread since our years in New Hampshire more than fifty years ago. At the time, the only options at the supermarket...
When I was still in the classroom teaching English, I dreamed of publishing something in The English Journal. That may not seem like a lofty ambition for folks outside my charmed circle, but it was a publication by teachers and for teachers, and I followed the work in the Journal of many of the practitioners I respected. I’m proud of the books I’ve written and edited, but my appearances in The...