Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Thursday, September 14, 2006

Once I met George W. Bush

I was a reporter at a paper in South Carolina. It was 2000, months before the election, and he visited a school, with his wife, to tout his education program and vie for inevitable votes in the Deep South. I knew the principal, had become friends from a previous job. When GW was called into her office for a phone call, she and I listened outside the door. He threw a tantrum - we heard 'Goddamn, son of a bitch, and shit. Then the door opened suddenly, and here came the chief-to-be, all smiles, sticking out his hand. I never shook his hand that day, despite several 'opportunities.' Never knew I could come to think less of him than I did that day.

Wednesday, September 13, 2006


A shot of the Pacific from a spot near Quepos, Costa Rica. My wife and I honeymooned there - an incredible week. We drank fresh, market bought mango-pinapple-strawberry-coconut milk-vodka and or rum drinks from split coconut shells at our resort (the blender was fabulous), ate incredible seafood in restaurants, made juevos racheros in our resort kitchen, wandered the streets, the beaches, the rainforests, the trails, the palm groves with abandon.