Obituaries

Jeff might not appreciate my writing his obituary.  He may still be alive.  But I can’t wait for him, since I might go ahead of him. I had better get some thoughts down       In any event, I wish him well.  I still miss him, and mourn for the lifetime of friendship we…

Whoa, I’m not dead yet. But I know some people who would love to have me whacked.     Sorry, but enough with the comments. You have exceeded your allotment. You’ll have to store up all that anger, hatred and bile until the next comment period.        

Max did not go gently, and I was not there to help him along. It appears that I needed one last urgent service from his brief life. I negligently let him go out at night (he was always so insistent) in a strange new place, where I dragged him against his wishes. He didn’t want…

Katya was born in Prague in 1916 to Hans E. and Daniela M.  The family lived with Katya’s maternal grandmother, the imperious Teresa.  Teresa, who had worked for Katya’s grandfather as housekeeper, married the old widower when his own wife died.  (People are always fucking the help, for crissakes!  Or is it the help fucking…