It came as a surprise, but then I remembered: Next year will be 50 years since I graduated from Pulaski High School in New Britain, Conn.
So the kiddies at a Grand Forks school didn’t like dance rules and bolted to an off-school site so they could gyrate as pornographically as they pleased. What else is new?
I am of the generation that, like every generation before mine, pines for the good ol’ days – or, to put it more honestly, the myths of the good ol’ days. The myths came into focus recently when schools were closed because of unusual August heat and humidity.
Nasty phone calls come with the job. I expect them. I enjoy some of them, especially when the caller is a skilled, informed debater.
Reader response to last week’s column about my Polish grandmother’s beet soup underscores the maxim that old recipes for ethnic foods are unique to families.
For the first time in years, my wife and I have grown a crop of beets large enough to feed a small country.
I found a stash of old pictures the other day. Black and white, some cracked or faded, they were of a 1950s summer outing at my Uncle Stanley’s farm in (at that time) rural Southington, Conn.
Fargo city planners and policymakers use two terms to describe two ways to look at a city’s growth. One is “leap-frog,” the other is “in-fill.”
Baby boomers of a certain age (mine) will flock to 50th high school class reunions next year.
Here are three suggestions for your summer reading. Two of the three might seem surprising choices, but bear with me. Sometimes a serving of heavier fare can be a satisfying literary treat.
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