Sunday, July 5, 2020


It was dead quiet in this town yesterday. Normally an occasion for trombones, snare drums, politicians waving from the back of convertibles and colorful explosives, we could hear only a few passing cars and the wind from our porch. I went out in the late afternoon cruising for images and might have come back with nothing.

As usual I ended up in Forest Park. Pretty empty. When I took a swing by the great statue of Louis IX I found what looked like a small group of conservative Catholics on patrol. (Don't get me wrong. I spent five years under the supervision of the Sisters of Mercy and eleven in Jesuit schools.) There was a priest in an ankle-length cassock, something you don't see much anymore.  And this man. Anti-mask (ggrrr). No churches closed? What kind? No Nazis, no Communists and no Muslims? No "new normal." What is the new normal? Love his shoelaces, though.        

Saturday, July 4, 2020


Our national holiday in what may be a year of sweeping change. There is more hope for racial and economic justice, but it remains unfulfilled. The economy itself is battered by a disease that many of our leaders lack the courage or intelligence to control, while many of our people reject the medical science that can lead our way out of it. We have the opportunity but not the certainty of turning out of office a corrupt wannabe strongman who threatens our democracy. May July 4, 2021, be brighter.                 

Friday, July 3, 2020


You have seen this view on television, in electronic media or a newspaper. This is the entrance to Portland Place, a private street filled with old mansions in The Lou's Central West End. You also saw the owners of this mansion, fellow members of the local bar, standing in front. He had a semi-automatic rifle. She had a small hand gun pointed at the passing protesters, finger on the trigger. It is unclear whether the crowd broke through the locked gate.

The car in the foreground is from the news department of a local television station. No particular repercussions so far but the story has not ended.                

Thursday, July 2, 2020


Wave after wave of storms have passed over us. There is no dust, no smoke. The statues in Citygarden are dripping. All the plants are lush and dampen what little sound is made by the virus-chastened city.

Some people can form a mental visual image - they can see things "in their mind's eye." I'm a little different. I can hear music in my mind's ear. Not a hallucination, just a clear non-physical experience of the music. This is what has been playing all day:


Wednesday, July 1, 2020


I've run these images before but it's what I got. So here we are in Webster Groves, Missouri, back in the spring, when my neighbors would set up a well-spaced lawn chair happy hour in the cul de sac in front of our home. The second one is at the point where our community driveways (the garages face the back) abut a large, grassy school yard. The view is due west. Sunset has moved way to the right by now.              

Tuesday, June 30, 2020


From Saturday's demonstration at the statue of Louis IX in front of the art museum. It strikes me that "loser" is Trump rhetoric. And, of course, there are two sides to every story. If interested, see his bio on Wikipedia at There is much to say on his behalf. You decide. I don't have a dog in this fight. I've been a recovering Catholic for a long time.

I drove by the site late yesterday afternoon to see what was up. The pedestal had been cleaned. No one was there.


Monday, June 29, 2020


In normal times this would have been Pridefest weekend. It's usually our best photo op of the year. Now, in terms of Euclidean geometry, I'm as straight as the shortest distance between two points. Still, I hope the day will come when festivals like this will not be necessary because people's sexual preferences are such a normal part of society that there is no need to call attention to it.

The local community came up with a creative alternative. There was a car parade, a Care A Van, with a long line of decorated vehicles snaking through the city, decorated for the occasion. Not nearly as good as the usual crazy annual parade,, but in the times we live in it will have to do.