Dave’s Diaries: Life, writing and more

  • Insanity

    One afternoon in 1978, I walked into the radio newsroom where I had my first reporting job and found myself in the middle of a huge, fast-breaking story: a multiple shooting. The killings in El Paso and Dayton have brought back memories of those times, when these awful events were still rare—and of my own… Read more

  • My Woodstock memories

    My Woodstock memories

    They finally pulled the plug on Woodstock 50 and I for one am not sorry. Anniversaries aren’t created equal and re-creating this one made no sense to me, despite being part of the generation it supposedly defined. I’ve never liked being branded by others—especially now, when I’m one of those selfish old coots who are… Read more

  • Uncle Grumpy’s gone fishin’

    Welcome to my retirement! Not the one from my actual job a few years ago but the brand new one from my other life as a professional language police person and grammar nag, writing under the moniker Uncle Grumpy. You might ask why I’m retiring. (You might also not care.) Well, it wasn’t an easy… Read more

  • Nonsense of direction

    Nonsense of direction

    This “new old age” business is definitely getting old. Not only am I losing vital inches from the frame I’ve been feeding and cultivating all these years, but a precious part of my brain is wilting like last week’s boutonniere. Why? Because I use a GPS! Those pesky scientists have found that those who lean… Read more

  • Toys in the…well, not the attic

    I don’t know why I write about sex toys so often. It’s definitely not based on personal history: in my long career as a human of the male variety, I have never needed any artificial prodding, encouragement, incentive, or hydraulics. Note: Vodka and “Taxicab Confessions” reruns don’t count. (Besides, I used to be a cabbie… Read more

  • Farewell to a friend

    Farewell to a friend

    The dragonflies were coming out at the beach last week, a new cycle of life beginning with the season. For my wife and me, a stage of life was ending, as we cleared out and sold the beach house we’d owned and cherished for the last sixteen years. Growing up in the Midwest and not… Read more