Consequences – Intended or Otherwise

I haven’t been in Ireland long enough to make a total fool of myself talking about local issues. The other day I started a piece about unintended consequences and let it evolve into a view of a political …

Sullivan in exile

I remember old Mr. Sullivan, walking down a former country road with his ancient dog and a bottle sticking out of the brown bag in his overcoat pocket. Rain or shine. Winter or summer. Same heavy overcoat. Same …

Home: refuge or prison?

At the time, I was young and saw, but didn’t really feel, the tragedy. Today, I see a tragic pattern, understand and feel too well why my neighbor left us. Envision, if you will, a young suburb. In …

Home was a basement and a city’s sun

Mrs. B loved her sun – we’d squint and find somewhere else to go as the hot western sunset aimed down the narrow alley into our eyes. She’d come out from her basement kitchen to absorb its beam, …

Sharing our public and private selves

Guatemala. There’s a couple who’ve been passing through town for the past few days. They seem like normal, active, sun-weathered people, indefinably aged somewhere between their early 50’s and healthy 70’s. We’ve seen each other in our wanderings, …