Years ago I was at one of the community theaters in Baltimore waiting for the play to start. In the lobby was an exhibition of abstract paintings. The paintings represented all the hotel rooms the artist had lived in. One I liked so much that I got out my note pad and sketched it, with…
Category: History
Reviewing My Bucket List
As a child my bucket list was easy: I just looked at the map and said, “I want to visit that pink country, the blue one over there, and those three green ones, here, here and here.” When I got older and learned to read, I added historical sites, bitterly disappointed that six of the…
December 30, 2018: Finding the Cheese
The Nomad finds I cheese that stirs memories.
A matter of keyboards: the nomad’s dilemma
Follow An Inconvenient Life on WordPress.com The Early Days: My first exposure to keyboards, outside of typewriters was the card punch machine we used at the academy to punch the cards for the Wang Programmable calculator. Since I could only hunt and peck at that time, the quality of the keyboard really didn’t matter to me….
A Dyslectic’s Love of Typewriters
Disclaimer: I was never property diagnosed with Dyslexia. Some bright person at my grammar school saw the difficulty I was having learning to read and write, and told my mother that I was dyslexic. I wouldn’t be surprised if the popular media at that year was awash with stories on Dyslexia, and blaming that for…
October 21, 2018: A Simple Smell Takes me Back
Though I have been in Cuenca for nearly two months, I only recently started hanging out on the rooftop terrace of the condo. Of course that was pretty much a function of the colder weather. The first day I spent the morning, having my coffee on the rooftop, I found it quite enjoyable, and didn’t…
An Ode to My Mother, who made a reader out of me.
I was one of those kids, who didn’t do very well in school. I was very slow to learn to read. I learned the mechanics of reading not too much behind my classmates, but that slight slowness labeled me as backward. If someone stood over me and said, “Read.” I could call out the words,…
Sometimes Things get too Convenient
Starting this blog is like starting a story in the middle of the book. I find myself torn between carping about the day I have just had and telling the story of how I got here. Well, let’s just start at the beginning: I was born in the second half of the last century, to…