It was a recent summer evening and she sat me at the bar because there was space. Before ordering a salad and drink, I lifted my rucksack and a couple of books spilled out. “What are you reading?” I then told her, the waitress, about Philip Roth’s novella “Goodbye Columbus,” about a summer romance that ended in
(The Hamilton Spectator – Saturday, August 20, 2016)
HAMILTON, CANADA ✦ It’s funny how you can give a torch to someone and he’ll light up the world, and give the same torch to someone else and he’ll burn the place down.
It’s like love and hate. They’re both consuming fires, but with different ends. (The ultimate difference is that hate is all-consuming, and, like evil, will eventually consume itself.)
ATHENS ✦ I’ll never forget the unknown boy and his horrible end, not any more than I’ll forget Arash and his eyes on the day we met when the waters of the Mediterranean were cold.
(The Hamilton Spectator – Saturday, April 22, 2016)
BRUSSELS-ZAVENTUM AIRPORT ✦ Once upon a time (otherwise known as “the old days,”) people would watch news on their old televisions, or listen on their old radios, or pick up old newspapers that even landed on their front porches (remember front porches?) with a thud.
The world is supposed to end today. Yawn. (Or at least the end will finally get started.) According to those who believe in the so-called Global Coastal Event, there will be a massive earthquake in California. It’s a planetary alignment thing. Today. Thursday May 28, 2015. After the earthquake, all the other horrible stuff will
(Christian Week – May 2015)
KAMPALA, UGANDA ✦ It was an unremarkable day, birds and the African sunshine, the sound of a distant lawnmower, the dog laying quiet in back, shoes nearby, tea, a half-eaten yogurt, when fear washed over me like a river. Nightmares, yes, can come anytime.
The horrible news of the attack at Garissa University College in neighbouring Kenya came shortly after we, as a family, attended Good Friday services this morning. The al-Shabab attack that killed at least 147, not far from the Somalian border, was in an area known for its instability, at a relatively small and certainly vulnerable
She was Swiss and she stood at the front door this morning and told me how envious she was of my family’s set-up at the university compound we call home. I nodded. She had just driven the hour from her house in Kampala to drop off her daughter to play with Hannah when we talked