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Category: Society and the Human Psyche

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Urban Druid: Rebel Without Applause

Last month I posted no column.  I waited for the Muse, but she never showed up.  I could have fudged it and passed off some munchy-crunchy Upperwestside schmaltz, but that would not honestly reflect my state of mind as a true column should. In retrospect,...

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Good Night, Prince Sweet

Eric Sweet, my son-in-law who I consider a son, died suddenly of a heart attack on Monday, April 6. Artist, teacher, brilliant radical mind — he and my daughter Catherine Armbrust clearly worked hard to grow an honest, loving, intensely creative marriage, and succeeded until...

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Urban Druid: “The Good Old Days”

Fancying myself as someone who follows through… I am forcing myself to sit and type something for February.  A sort of stream of consciousness… short and sweet. Major decisions weigh heavy and added to it… I’ve not been feeling well lately. … Overheard an older...

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College Prep Begins at Preschool

“The most important period of life is not the age of university studies but the first one, from birth to the age of six. For that is the time when man’s intelligence itself, his greatest implement, is being formed.”
~Maria Montessori President Obama recently announced his...

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Contemporary Haiku

 (artwork by Eric Sweet)   MESSAGES rain telegraphing to pavement my memories, my deepest desires   FAMILY Beavers gnawing birch build dams transforming bare earth to life-breeding streams.   LOSS Fracking Everglades in endless craving for oil suffocates bluegill.   HIDDEN Beneath the surface my...

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The Elitist: Tea with Miz Welty

The early January chill came right through my thin sweater as I stood on the sidewalk looking at a Jackson, Mississippi house:  a combination of Stockbroker Tudor and center hall Colonial, two-storey with a small portico, the muckeldey-dun colored brick merging right on into a...

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Urban Druid: New York Street Vendors Then and Now

THE PRETZEL MAN Passing through Astor Place near Cooper Union recently, the change was apparent.  I felt blue.  Old New York is almost gone.  Native New Yorkers are gone.  How squeaky clean and sterile it has become.  But, Astor Place?  How did they find it?  Even my favorite street vendor the Pretzel...

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Mentor: Remembering William Packard

In the early ‘90s, I was living in a fourth-floor walkup studio apartment on Sullivan Street in Greenwich Village, between Bleecker and Thompson streets. A block and a half from Washington Square Park, the area being swallowed up by New York University. I was freelancing...

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