Spitball Army

This photograph was taken at the Boston Hatch Shell, during an outdoor shoot for the film Yes, Giorgio, in June of 1981.

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I will be the first to admit (because no one else can do it for me) that I resisted spending even the smallest amount of time listening to Mason Jennings recordings for several years.  The reason, simply, was that I was under the impression that he was part of the “contemporary Christian” musical movement.  I […]

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Swimming lessons in the morning were followed by an hour or two on the monkey bars, which were followed by splashing and diving at the pool which, in turn, led to swinging and teeter-tottering into the twilight hours. But for me, ultimately, the emphasis was on the happenings at the swimming pool. I was a water baby.

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Sign over the swimsuit water extractor, Downtown Branch of Birmingham YMCA.

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I remember when you were building that fence, we used to watch the woman who lived on the corner walk her dog up the alley and let it take a dump right behind my house. She’d just stand there watching it, smoking a cigarette. You eventually got talking with her, and she coincidentally stopped using my backyard as her dog’s potty. Well, she died last year, after battling on and off again with cancer. We had become friendly. She used to ask about you all the time.

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Say, one really can get a lot on these V mails when typing. I’m almost running out of material.

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I was shocked when I saw Uncle Pete but he looks better to me already, maybe I’m getting used to him. He uses his arm pretty well but it is quite stiff yet – that is in reaching his face.

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“Hello, Honey, this is Joe!”

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I was not prepared for the emotional wallop contained in this seemingly simple documentary about Tennessee middle school students studying the Holocaust.

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