Well, since my discussion of Churchill’s Black Dog was received with all the enthusiasm of a root canal, let’s turn to a topic that’s less…depressing.
Shakespeare.
Twelfth Night (or What You Will) is without doubt my favorite of Shakespeare’s plays, and I’ve seen many productions of it both live and on screen. Before, I was torn as to which was my favorite but that’s all done with, as the clear winner is the 2012 production mounted by Shakespeare’s Globe, starring an all-male cast including Mark Rylance (as Olivia) and Stephen Fry (as Malvolio). Continue Reading »
Nails clicking on the hardwoods, he pads toward my dawn-chilled room. I see his greyed muzzle poke around the open doorway, black nose wriggling. His old limbs are stiff, but he’s always been like that; he was never young. Churchill’s Black Dog was never a pup, never a young whelp filled with enthusiasm and love of life. He’s always been a grizzled, aged hound, waiting out his final days in lassitude and despair.
I’m a good tipper. As long as the service is good, I generally tip 20% because after a glass or two of wine, the math on 20% is easier than figuring out 15%. (Yes, I can be that lazy.)
Take coffee with cream in a glass mug:
Kurt R.A. Giambastiani 