The last three weeks have been a bit of a blur for me. The restaurant at Duke reopened with the new semester and there were still things to do at the Durham restaurant beyond my usual responsibilities, leaving me with one day off in the last twenty or so days
My friend David Gentiles posted an old Don McLean song on his blog today. That and my continued listening to Randy Newman's Harps and Angels sent me on a little musical journey of my own this evening. And so, I offer a sampling of some of my favorite
We have a new dishwasher at the restaurant at Duke. His name is Arnaldo and he is from Cuba. He is about my height and, I’m guessing not much over half my weight. His skin is dark – ebony – and yet luminous enough to let you see the lines worn
I wish there were some way to cut a small slit in the wall and let the air, trapped since first construction, spill into the room and tell its stories. I wonder who walked these floors in those first days, when the pin oak at the curb was smaller than
Over the summer, we have seen both the Chef de Cuisine and the Sous Chef at the restaurant leave for other places. Actually, the latter followed the former, which is not unusual in restaurant circles, but that’s a story for another time. Both guys were there when I joined
Here is the manuscript of a sermon I preached this morning at our church. Peace, Milton <o:p>________________________</o:p> I would like to begin this morning with a sentence that I’m fairly sure has not been uttered by many people. Here it is: some
Yesterday marked the twentieth anniversary of Ginger's and my engagement. We celebrated with a quick trip to Boston (my first since we moved), including a Sox game and a meal at the Hard Rock, which is where we ate on August 12, 1989 (except at the one in
I guess tonight might be the blogging equivalent of clearing off my desk. I have not written as regularly as I would like over the last couple of months for a variety of reasons, this week however, it was not for lack of ideas. Before the time gets away, I
I came across this video through my neighborhood association listserv. It gives a good sense of this cool little city. Peace, Milton
Sometimes, the way we look at the world swings on a sentence. A small, well chosen collection of words can change not only what we are reading or hearing, but also how we see and hear everything around us. The Great Gatsby holds (at least) one of those sentences for
There are no stars tonight. We see only clouds and hear the storm gathering on the edge of town like bandits in a Western. There are no stars tonight, so we say, waiting for rain, listening to the thunder, cosmic talking drummers telling an old, old story. There are no
Because of some wonderful happenings in the lives of our Associate Pastor and her partner, I was the substitute preacher today. Those of you who read the blog regularly will see a few references to some recent posts, though they are in a new context. The passage was Mark 6: