Here’s one. She’s 93. This must be an old picture, but 93 is a pretty good age at which to pass. It doesn’t help me much. She’s a she, and she people seem to live longer than he people.
J.P. Devine
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J.P. DEVINE: OMG. I’m on Facebook
OMG. I’m so excited. I think I’m on. I followed all the instructions given me by my daughters who are on, along with a zillion other people on the planet, and there I am with my picture and resume and some information.
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J.P. DEVINE: In praise of basic ketchup
It is the most common kitchen artifact in America. It is to be found on the kitchen tables and on red and white checkered picnic blankets of our land.
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J.P. Devine: Chickens back on the table
My passion for the eatable feathered friends goes back to my early childhood. We had a big house on the corner across from the convent, where the landscaping nuns, yes there is such an order of sorts, raised not just chickens but rara avis of many colors.
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J.P. DEVINE: Haunted by ghosts of New York
Do you have a minute? I’ve been thinking of going down to Manhattan for my birthday. What do you think?
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J.P. DEVINE: My many roads not taken
“Regrets, I’ve had a few, but then again, too few to mention.”
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J.P. DEVINE: Winter comes on the wind
At the end of a perfect day, the end of a perfect month and a perfect summer, just as two wine glasses clink, a sudden cool wind pops up, and a late night call comes that tells of the unexpected death of an old friend.
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ON THE EDGE: Badminton at the Olympics?
I’ve never been a fan of sports. This is on the record and so deeply embedded that it will be mentioned in my obituary. I’ve usually avoided the Olympics, because it’s the Vatican event of sports, like when the Pope gives the Easter address and everyone goes.
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J.P. DEVINE: Goodfellas don’t do billfolds
As you all know, August is National Wallet Month. I made that up because I needed a theme. You didn’t come to my house to hear me lecture you about the presidential race, the Olympics or Curiosity landing on Mars.
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ON THE EDGE: Vito on the bench
I was good, really good, but he was better for the part. It was the cold winter of 1956. We were both out at the old NBC studios in Brooklyn, auditioning for the part of an Italian brother in a new hour-long drama.