Friday, November 30, 2012
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Sunday, November 25, 2012
I've avoided writing on this page for some time. I think that I'm just avoiding reality. My life have become very insular. Is that the right word? Webster defines it as "characteristic of an isolated people." My life is mostly in Forest Hills.
I no longer drive, why this doesn't depress me, I'm not sure. I hate the subways, ergo I avoid them whenever possible.
So each day, weather permitting, I take my two mile walk through Forest Hills. When I'm lucky, I get to take the Long Island Railroad to the Island.
You are my connection to the outside world.
Yet none of this upsets me.
I have always loved to write. I have always wanted to write humor. I love Dorothy Parker, James Thurber, Philip Roth the writings of Woody Allen and Groucho Marx. So I've been writing satire. About 1 out ot 3 get published, but I save them anyway. It's my therapy
Now if I can figure out a way to make a buck from it.