Like my writing, which comes forth in fragments, my house is full of minor mementos: objects, many having little or no value elsewhere, but each having achieved some significance for me or for Meredy. I do not always understand the significance of her seeming junk, nor she mine, so we each have to be careful…
All posts by drice
All the World’s a Screen…
I don’t get out much these days…I mean out of Ojai. I do leave the house each morning to hike the local trails with Doc, but most of my outings are to the local market or the local golf course, or to visit local friends…perhaps a Sunday walk at the lake or the beach. I…
I am not Charlie
After mulling it over for awhile, I have concluded that I am not Charlie. Part of me, that part which is outraged at senseless killings and barbaric behavior, would like to get a t-shirt and stand with my friends in defense of free speech , but the part of me that raised children and taught…
Words
I have learned to love words. When I was growing up, my parents always had a few copies of the Reader’s Digest stacked on an end table. They were conveniently stacked right next to the only heating vent, so they served as ready entertainment when we came in from the cold to warm up. (Well,…
1/1/15
And in the embers of 2014 lies an old friend whom I can’t stop missing, a cousin who touched lives, a friend who lived life fully, My mother’s 100th birthday had she lasted, And a risky dance with Barcelona. All grist for the mill, dust in the corners of this room, Swept now, in this…
Morning Assembly
The choice is always ours. Then, let me choose The longest art, the hard Promethian way Cherishingly to tend and feed and fan That inward fire, whose small, precarious flame, Kindled or quenched, creates The noble or ignoble men we are, The worlds we live in and the very fates, Our bright or muddy star.…
1979….Beginning
The years ’79 and ’80 brought a remarkable group of students to the Happy Valley School: Jamie Grover, Ondine, Denlow, Phil Hayes, Ivan, Amee, Romy, David Forsyth, Gokhan , the Meek family, Colm, Sarah, and Caitriona, Jake and Marion Rupp…just to name a very few. There was also the arrival of some interesting new teachers:…
Thom
/>My lifelong friend, Thom Nulty, passed away last night. He died in an airport. Boarding a plane. Fitting. In the mid-60s, after we had both gotten out of the service, Thom and I headed to Palm Springs to enjoy the annual ritual of Spring Break. We barely had enough money to gas up his corvette,…
Promoting Moral Growth
It was the summer of 1985 and Cambridge, Mass., was muggy. I was living in an old Radcliffe dorm room, smaller than my first few cars. Single bed, small desk, and a giant fan which I pointed directly at the bed at night. I was there to work in a summer program under Lawrence Kohlberg,…
Life is but a dream…
When I was in the 4th grade at St. Joan of Arc school, the Sister who taught me (her name long gone) wrote on my report card, “Dennis is a very bright young man, but he is a dreamer.” Both my parents and I would have felt a bit better about it if she had…