Greetings, fellow keyboardists. This week’s Park Lark will be a bit briefer than you might normally expect from such things, mainly because I started out with one intention in mind and then I became distracted by something else. (On a related note, this perfectly describes my romantic adventures […]
Greta: “I’m so excited that we’re getting our picture taken!” Hans: “Oh, please. I’m a year older than you, and let me assure you that this will get tiresome really fast.” Greta: “You’re such a pessimist, Hans. You’re just mad because you’re wearing obscenely ridiculous shorts.” Hans: “Like […]
Borden’s Cafeteria was one of the finest food emporiums ever, at least in my limited-view childhood mind. At one point, there were multiple locations, but we only ever went to the one at Sheridan Village. The thrilling allure of this particular venue was that you could drive up […]
Ed, Professional Hoofer from New Jersey: “And for the last bit of the dance finale, do this little side kick and shake your moneymaker like it’s on fire.” Starlet #1, far left: “You mean our moneymakers. Plural.” Ed: “No, I mean singular. The good ole thrust and grind […]
Evan wiped away a tear, the wetness and the action long unfamiliar. “I didn’t know. How could we have been so wrong?” Maggie sighed, action familiar, constant over the years. “Because we were stupid. We wanted to blame her and we did. It was easier than blaming ourselves.” […]
Dean Stockwell, left: “Dad, what’s up with that huge book on your desk?” Ralph Richardson, center: “It doesn’t matter. What’s important is that I give this bottle of hooch to your brother.” Jason Robards, right: “Thanks, Dad! You’re pretty swell, even if your existence torments me.” Dean: “But […]
Janet: “Oh my God! That policeman is clearly following me and he’s going to pull me over and he’s going to find the money I stole and I’ll end up in a women’s prison, sharing a cell with someone named Gruntina who will whore me out to all […]
It all started with a bicycle and a random gaggle of neighborhood boys. Bicycles were cool. You simply had to have one if you wanted any kind of street rep. There was no discussion on the matter. If you did not have a bicycle, your rank in society […]
Continued from Previous Post… So anyway, I managed to survive my first attempt at emancipation relatively unscathed. I’m sure there was punishment of some kind, since there was always an intricate system of checks and balances in my childhood, especially when Dad was around. Any time you […]
Two incidents, both in the early 70s. The first was perhaps in 1971, and the other a few years later. Two separate attempts to make my break for freedom, forceful acts of will in honor of that long-standing tradition: The child who runs away from home to escape […]
Bonnywood Manor 
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