Take it from this fanilow, Barry Manilow’s oeuvre is just like cats (no, not the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical; the actual furbies). Each song is the favorite, and each song is the best.
There are some wicked awesome things in this world. With Valentine’s Day recently passed, my house is stocked with quality candy at sensationally discounted prices (just wait until the day after Easter).
You do it too. I know you do. Don’t feign misunderstanding. Fess up. Every single one of your cats has at least one ridiculous nickname (maybe a ridiculous actual name), and probably several nicknames, in fact. The one on my lap right now outrageously bears the given name of a physicist. Since Higgs hypothesized what […]
Sitting with a wonderfully toasty heating pad wrapped around my right foot and Paul McCartney crooning about his love makes me feel all gooshy inside. Okay, not exactly gooshy, but nice. I like the song, despite the sappiness, and I really love the heating pad.
With so much going topsy turvy, and every day filled with queasy wonder about what will come next, it’s easy to forget about how much we have to be thankful for. Exhibit A: If you’re reading this blog, you either see things for yourself, or you have someone or a nifty technology to help. These […]
In our relative isolation, there is no escape from the news, viral invaders, responsibility, or ourselves. We are somewhat alone, but never alone enough in the right ways.
Actor and singing powerhouse Billy Porter has a name that puts me in mind of entertainment legends Billie Holiday and Cole Porter. I wonder whether this was intentional or a happy accident. Without knowing one way or the other, Schrodinger would accept my stipulation that both are simultaneously true.
It’s not the third British invasion. Kind of a shame, too, because the music scene can always use a refresh, but Lewis Capaldi, Ed Sheeran, and Rag’n’Bone Man don’t make for much of a wave. There is, however, a second wave of tiny Terran aliens crashing around the world.
As proven by its occasional rhapsodizing about Alan Alda and One Direction, this blog is not generally pinned to the pulse of celebrity news. But this week’s star sorrow demands a response. The world has lost its beloved Black Panther, Chadwick Boseman.
When I first met Samantha, it was because another volunteer asked me to. The poor kitty was frightened, cowering in an open crate, and new to the community room. She needed friends, and it wasn’t difficult to convince her that scratches and cooing are nice.