We moved our party to the spacious Dolomite Lodge about a mile down the street from our Penfield home. Life has a way of keeping us on an even keel. Every high seems to be followed by a low. Or as Eileen Holleran warned, “It’s a long road that doesn’t have a turn inContinue reading “I took the high road, but COVID dragged me down the low road”
Author Archives: jimholleran29
Uncovering the secret formula for Hammond, hamlet of champs
In this age of wild conspiracy theories, the question remains – “How does tiny Hammond Central School, champion of the girls Class D state basketball tournament, win so often?’’ Try these: Granted, those are as preposterous as saying space lasers created California wildfires. Administrators don’t slip a secret sauce into the school lunches. Town officialsContinue reading “Uncovering the secret formula for Hammond, hamlet of champs”
Snakes would be more welcome than another St. Patrick’s disaster
St. Patrick’s Day resembles a wedding each year at our home. If a wedding and reception entail a church, priest, flowers, music, limousine, bridal party (the list goes on and on), our annual St. Patrick’s Day party includes at least 35 pounds of corned beef, borrowed pots from neighbors, four starter cases of beer, bottles of JamesonContinue reading “Snakes would be more welcome than another St. Patrick’s disaster”
Civility and Entitlement
During my childhood, my father used to share a silly rhyme about two brothers. “Skinny and Fatty went to bed; Fatty rolled over and Skinny was dead.’’ His version of a Grimm Brothers fairy tale seemingly has been replaced in today’s society by two more brothers – Civility and Entitlement. Entitlement is hogging the coversContinue reading “Civility and Entitlement”
What once passed for hip, trendy has become dreadfully outdated
When Burt Bacharach died a couple of weeks ago, my favorite jazz station devoted plenty of air time to his songs, kind of a musical obituary. He was considered Hollywood hip back in the ‘60s and ‘70s, a classically trained pianist with an ear for lyrics, handsome, square-jawed husband to Angie Dickinson, writer of aContinue reading “What once passed for hip, trendy has become dreadfully outdated”
Grandpa H sounds surreal; hope it lasts for years
As I drive to Reading, Pa., to meet my week-old granddaughter, the title Grandpa Holleran remains surreal, although I’ve heard it a hundred times. My grandson Wes, who is approaching 2½ years, has begun to use that term. But it remains odd, as if somebody started the DVD of my life story, advanced the sceneContinue reading “Grandpa H sounds surreal; hope it lasts for years”
Shall we gather at the deep parts of the river?
On New Year’s Day, I checked the St. Lawrence River level at my sister Maureen’s home at Merry’s Point in Morristown. You didn’t need to find a yardstick to realize only 6 inches of water stood against the base of her dock. The conditions that had peeved shore residents and boaters last summer and fallContinue reading “Shall we gather at the deep parts of the river?”
Kids grow into teachers, but retain the magic of ‘snow day!’
The conditions last Friday were perfect for a snow day. The windchill factor hovered at -20 degrees, reaching the threshold where frostbite can impact exposed skin within one minute. That was balmy Rochester, where school children were given a reprieve from their walks to school, up to a mile and a half. AContinue reading “Kids grow into teachers, but retain the magic of ‘snow day!’”
Holleran Gets It Write 