John William Tuohy lives in Washington DC

Miss Comstock’s Paragraph, a short story by John William Tuohy

“For just one second, look at your life and see how perfect it is. Stop looking for the next secret door that is going to lead you to your real life. Stop waiting. This is it: there’s nothing else. It’s here, and you’d better decide to enjoy it or you’re going to be miserable wherever you go, for the rest of your life, forever.” Lev Grossman

                                                       DON'T WORRY...BE HAPPY

“The way to happiness: keep your heart free from hate, your mind from worry. Live simply, expect little, give much. Fill your life with love. Scatter sunshine. Forget self, think of others. Do as you would be done by. Try this for a week and you will be surprised.” Norman Vincent Peale

“Happiness is a state of mind, a choice, a way of living; it is not something to be achieved, it is something to be experienced.” Steve Maraboli 

Every burned book or house enlightens the world; every suppressed or expunged word reverberates through the earth from side to side.

300 quotes from Emerson
To view more Emerson quotes or read a life background on Emerson please visit the books blog spot. We update the blog bi-monthly  emersonsaidit.blogspot.com


Sombrío  (sohm-bree'-oh ) dark; gloomy, somber 
1.  Mi oficina no tiene ventanas y es tan sombría.
My office doesn't have windows and is so dark.  
 2.  El gobierno publicó un sombrío pronóstico para la economía esta mañana.
The government published a gloomy outlook for the economy this morning.  


The Northern Writers' Project is a week-long playwriting intensive where four plays are workshopped with the playwrights, directors, actors and audience. There will be a full week of rehearsal for each play leading to two public readings of each play with talkbacks after each reading. The Project will give playwrights a chance to develop their plays more thoroughly while showcasing their talent. Playwrights from all over the country are welcome to submit.
The 2015 Northern Writers' Project will be held August 31-September 6.

Moonlight Theatre Productions is seeking submissions of one-act plays, 10-30 minutes long about current or recent events of social, legal and political significance by emerging playwrights.
Rules of submission:
Only plays that haven’t been produced or showcased in New York City.
Plays in Microsoft Word or Final Draft pdf formats, all pages titled and numbered.
Mark Short Play/your name on the subject line.
Submission is free.
Lourdes University Drama Society 2015 One-Act Playwriting Competition
NOTE: No entry fee necessary with copy of Dramatists Guild membership card
Cash awards of $250 for 1st place, $100 for 2nd place, and $50 for 3rd place will be presented. Winning plays will also be produced by the Lourdes University Drama Society.
The competition is open to all playwrights 18 years of age and older. Only one play per playwright may be entered per year. Plays may be co-written by more than one playwright, but the names of all playwrights must appear on the entry form.
Entries must be one-act stage plays with performance times of 8 to 15 minutes. Full-length plays, musicals, children’s plays, film and TV scripts, and plays previously entered in this competition are ineligible.
*** FOR MORE INFORMATION on these and other opportunities see the web site at http://www.nycplaywrights.org ***

A Pride of LGBT Theater Fests

On June 25, Horse Trade Theater Group premieres the Queerly Festival — a new Pride month tradition that hands its East Village stages (The Kraine Theater and UNDER St. Marks) over to comedians, storytellers, poets and playwrights, who inject queer identity into an already specific worldview (readhead, Southerner, sports fan, misfit).

Do your best Judy or Cher, when Jennifer Nikki Kidwell (as Stanley Epps) hosts the Queerly Festival’s “Lipsynk Karaoke.” Photo by Jenn Kidwell.

Day 1 Queerly shows include “Lipsynk Karaoke,” in which sometimes drag king Stanley Epps (aka full-time performance artist Jennifer Nikki Kidwell) presides over the lip-synch-style elevation or slaughter of gay anthems by Cher, Barbra, Judy, Grace Jones and, yes, even Clay Aiken. Sign up at 7 p.m. — the trouble starts in another 30 minutes. At 8 p.m., “Queerly Canadian” stars our trailblazing neighbors to the north. Host Jillian Thomas and her cast of comics and burlesque performers deliver the highly advanced entertainment you’d expect from a country that enacted anti-discrimination laws in 1998, legalized same sex marriage in 2005 and has allowed gay adoption for decades. At 9 p.m., NYC drag leeeeeegend Flotilla “not on Facebook, bitches!” Debarge holds court with a cabaret show featuring old standards and new material.

Another modern classic, Molly “Equality” Dykeman, is among the June 26 festival highlights. Her 8 p.m. “Queerly Misfits” show has the foul-mouthed, pill-popping, girl-loving gal using sketch and song to praise outcasts of all persuasions. The guest performers are Melissa Gordon, Paul Hutcheson, Cara Kilduff, Alan Warnock and our favorite ukulele-playing, nun-marrying bi (lingual and otherwise) gal, D’yan Forest. On June 28 & 29 at 8 p.m., The BTK Band, which debuted in 2007 in the upstairs lounge at The Stonewall Inn, brings their “hard-drinking improvised storytelling” to Queerly, with a formidable contingent of go-go dancers in tow.



Ian McKellen and Derek Jacobi, in a Gay Pride March Debut
When Ian McKellen and Derek Jacobi come sailing down Fifth Avenue in convertibles at the Gay Pride March on Sunday, they will not only be grand marshals at the annual event but also first-time attendees.

So on Thursday morning, these revered British actors, who appear together in the PBS sitcom “Vicious,” were wondering what awaited them beyond an afternoon of waving to fans and onlookers.

“I’m just a sponge for anything that might happen,” said Mr. Jacobi, the soft-spoken star of “I, Claudius” and countless stage productions.



What Love is…..

Man's nature is not essentially evil. Brute nature has been know to yield to the influence of love. You must never despair of human nature. Mahatma Gandhi

Note to my reader friends: I joined Goodreads. If you're on Goodreads, please friend me. Thank you.  John


BY Lawrence Ferlinghetti 


The Green Street Mortuary Marching Band
marches right down Green Street
and turns into Columbus Avenue
where all the cafe sitters at
the sidewalk cafe tables
sit talking and laughing and
looking right through it

as if it happened every day in
little old wooden North Beach San Francisco
but at the same time feeling thrilled
by the stirring sound of the gallant marching band
as it it were celebrating life and
never heard of death

And right behind it comes the open hearse
with the closed casket and the
big framed picture under glass propped up
showing the patriarch who
has just croaked

And now all seven members of
the Green Street Mortuary Marching Band
with the faded gold braid on their
beat-up captains' hats
raise their bent axes and
start blowing all more or less
together and
out comes this Onward Christian Soldiers like
you heard it once upon a time only
much slower with a dead beat

And now you see all the relatives behind the
closed glass windows of the long black cars and
their faces are all shiny like they
been weeping with washcloths and
all super serious
like as if the bottom has just dropped out of
their private markets and
there's the widow all in weeds, and the sister with the
bent frame and the mad brother who never got through school
and Uncle Louie with the wig and there they all assembled
together and facing each other maybe for the first time in a long
time but their masks and public faces are all in place as they face
outward behind the traveling corpse up ahead and oompah oompah
goes the band very slow with the trombones and the tuba
and the trumpets and the big bass drum and the corpse hears
nothing or everything and it's a glorious autumn day in old
North Beach if only he could have lived to see it 

Only we wouldn't have had the band who half an hour later can be seen
straggling back silent along the sidewalks looking like hungover
brokendown Irish bartenders dying for a drink or a last hurrah 

Here’s a chapter from my book “On the Waterfront: The Making of a Great American Film”

Here's the books blog address: http://onthewaterfrontthefilm.blogspot.com/


Late November 1953

“To grasp the full significance of life is the actor's duty, to interpret it is his problem, and to express it his dedication.”  Brando

One of the most famous scenes in the history of the American cinema is also one of the simplest: two brothers, talking in the back seat of a cab.  While the scene is powerful on its own, it is also the pivotal emotional point in the movie, releasing all the conflict that precedes it, the vocalization of all that is pent up between the two brothers throughout their lives.  Terry pours out everything that haunts him, motivates him and causes the apprehension and self-doubt in his life.  It is the scene of scenes, the most triumphant expression of failure in American movies.    
Kazan had requested the scene be done in an actual taxicab while it was driven through actual Manhattan traffic.  Spiegel thought that too expensive, and again and as usual without first conferring with Kazan, he redirected the shoot to the inside of a studio, where, instead of a taxicab, Kazan found the shell of a taxicab.  Actually only half of the shell.  In the final cut, the cabs driver is actually sitting on a wooden stool supported by phone books.  Kazan angrily confronted Spiegel over the set and Spiegel, ever the salesman, draped his arms around the director and cooed, “Darling, you’re a genius!  You can fix it, you are brilliant!  You can fix anything!  This is nothing!”    
 Frustrated and angry, Kazan then asked for a projection unit that would show traffic through the cabs window.  Again, Spiegel cut costs and no projection unit arrived.  Desperate, Boris Kaufman hammered  simple Venetian blinds across the cab shells rear window.  A crew was brought in to shake the fake cab to make it look like it was rolling through traffic while flashlights waved across the blinds gave the illusion of passing cars. 
Just as the taxi scene was about to be filmed, Brando looked at his watch and said, “I have to leave.  Its 4:00 o’clock and I have to see my psychiatrist” 51 and simply walk off the set.  So again, Kazan or his assistant directors read Brando’s lines   to a much hurt and humiliated Rod Steiger “Rod” said Schulberg “felt humiliated, second fiddle, all of that, and would never stop talking about it” 52
Year later, Stieger said, “I thought to himself “You son of a bitch, I got a little bit of talent too, I’ll show you” 53 and gave one of the best performances of his life.
Although the taxi car scene is obviously a process shot (A scene shot with technical or mechanical help to enhance the setting) the dialogue and acting is so good, the process is irrelevant. 
Brando read his lines and started to improvise by asking Stieger “What do you think about the Yankees this year?” to which a dumfounded Stieger answer, “What the hell are you talking about?”  and Brando replied “How’s Mom?”  Stieger went silent and as a result, the set went silent until Kazan yelled out “Bud” (his name for Brando) “Knock off the shit”
In the part in the scene where Steiger's character pulls a pistol on Brando's Terry Malloy and Terry gently pushes it away, admonishing his brother sadly, Brando claimed that he improvised the scene because he did not feel that Steiger's character would pull a gun on his own brother.
"Marlon did not improvise it" Schulberg insists, "That is a grand myth.  During the filming, he would improvise a word here and there, but he did not change lines.  He was good about it.  Much later, Brando said he had improvised the cab scene.  That's absolute nonsense. The scene was intact before we sent him the script." 54
Still, Brando did complain enough to Kazan that it was unbelievable that his brother, who cared deeply enough for his brother to die for him, would do such a thing.  He and Kazan argued about this until finally Kazan said, “All right, wing one.”
Brando and Steiger improvised parts of the scene, to a more believable scene, which Brando described,  “When my brother flashed the gun in the cab, I looked at it, then up at him in disbelief.  I didn’t believe for a second that he would ever pull the trigger.  I felt sorry for him. Then Rod started talking about my boxing career. If I’d had a better manager, he said, things would have gone better for me in the ring. “He brought you along too fast.” “That wasn’t him, Charlie,” I said, “it was you. Remember that night at the Garden you came down to my dressing room and said, ‘Kid, this isn’t your night.’ MY NIGHT! I could have taken Wilson apart. So what happened? He gets the shot at the title outdoors at a ballpark and what do I get?  A one-way ticket to Palookaville.  You was my brother, Charlie, you should have looked out for me a little bit. You should have taken care of me better so I didn’t have to take the dives for the short-end money . . . .  I could have had class. I could have been a contender. I could have been somebody instead of a bum, which is what I am, let’s face it. It was you, Charlie”
Budd Schulberg recalled, “He was a dream to work with, but there was one bone of contention.  Word came to me that Marlon didn’t like the taxicab scene, where Marlon’s brother Charlie (Rod Steiger) is trying to convince him not to testify to the Waterfront Crime Commission and Terry/ Marlon is protesting that that’s the story of his life, doing favors for the mob that sapped his pride and his manhood – they even made him take dives in the ring when he might have been, if not a champion, at least a contender, “somebody, instead of a bum”. I got mad. “Gadge, you like the scene, I like it, and Spiegel likes it, what the hell doesn’t he like about it?” Kazan said he didn’t know. Brando wasn’t so good with words. All he said was he can’t play it.
 I insisted we all sit down together. Kazan agreed to set it up. I was living on a farm in Pennsylvania but I drove into the city for the meeting. But when I got to town I found it had been called off, a two-and-a-half hour drive. I drove in again next day. Same thing. The meeting had been cancelled. I would return to my little bar-house on the farm and drown my frustration. After the third meeting fell through I asked my pal Kazan what was wrong. He told me the truth. Spiegel had bent himself in two to inveigle Brando into playing the role, he knew how protective I was about the script and he feared a face-off between Marlon and me might give Marlon an excuse for walking away.
 So he went into production with me still seething and nothing resolved. A few days later we were up on the tenement roof shooting a scene when our script girl mentioned to me that Marlon had been complaining to her about the taxicab scene. I started to raise my voice and Kazan came over and asked me to be quiet. ``At the lunch break let’s go down in the kitchen (of the tenement flat we were using) and settle this damn thing.” So there we were, just the three of us, no Spiegel, thank God, and Kazan said ``Okay, Marlon, let’s have it. What the hell’s wrong with the taxi scene you keep complaining about.  We’re getting ready to shoot it and you say it’s not playable?”
“Look, `` Marlon said, ``I’ve got all that stuff to say to Rod about his being my brother and he shoulda have looked out for me, I’ve got a big speech there, I could have been a contender, I could have been somebody, well, you tell me how I can say all that if Rod’s got a gun pointing at me?”
Kazan said, ``Look, what if you just reach out and push the gun down, and then pick up the dialogue?”
“Oh, that will be fine,” Marlon said. The scene proceeded as written 55
In the filmed version of the scene, Terry slowly brushes the gun aside and moans “Oh Charlie” with an echo of sadness that still reverberates today.
 Adding to the scene was the cramped space of the back of the cab.  Brando and Steiger were both large men, virtually unable to move their bodies in the seat and so they emphasized their emotional filled lines with a complete symphony of facial expressions with the implication that the two brothers know the end is near and are mourning the loss of the live between them.  However, Terry suffers the most.  He had nothing to start with and now the one dependable love in his life, his brother, has fallen away.  One by one, Terry Malloy’s childhood hero, are turning into weak little men.
At the end of that scene, once Terry is out of the cab, Charley barks at the driver “Take me to the Garden.”  The next several seconds are chilling, although almost overwhelmed by the musical score, when the driver pulls into a building garage and Charlie Malloy’s killers are seen through a dimly lit window.
   Nehemiah Persoff was a student in Kazan’s classes at the Actors Studio.  One day, Kazan came by and playfully griped Persoff in a headlock and told him “I have a scene for you” and told him to report to a CBS network owned studio on 58th and 9th Avenue, a place Persoff remembered had once been a Borden Milk factory.  Aside from that, all Kazan had told the young actor was that he would be paid the standard $75 for the scene.  When he arrived, Stieger and Brando were finishing their scene in the back of the cab, but Persoff, who had never been on a movie set before was more interested in the camera work then the dialogue.  When it was his turn to enter the scene, he would sit on a wooden milk cart in front of a fake steering wheel Kazan stuck his head into the window and whispered to Persoff about Steiger’s character “He just murdered your mother” 56
The taxi scene brings the film to its turning point and establishes
an acceptable balance between good versus evil.  Prior to the scene Terry has already begun to change.  The reoccurring reference throughout the film of “bum” as a motif is one of the motivating factors that push him to win his internal conflict with himself and the external conflict with those around him.  From the very first scene of the movie, Terry fights the label of bum, in his case, establishing a small step towards self-respect and dignity.  However, throughout most of the film he does not act as a man of self-respect.  He acts like a bum, a spiritual bum.  This changes permanently inside the taxi.  Up to this point, Terry is a loser, the forces of goodness are represented by Edie and Father Barry.  The forces of darkness are found in Johnny Friendly and Terry and his brother hold the spiritual middle ground.  Now that Terry has questioned his values and loyalties that he has decided not to be a bum, Charlie is forced to question his own values and loyalties.  His decides on the side of brotherly loyalty.  The choices that they, Charlie and Terry, make will directly affect both good and evil sides it will do away with the ambivalent middle ground in the film.  Their choices will change the oppressed and ambivalent dockworkers  propelling them to act against the mob (in effect, evil) Now it is clearly established that the Malloy’s are no longer frozen in the middle as Johnny Friendly’s pawns.  Both understand that there will be consequences for their actions (Hence, Charlie hands Terry the pistol for protection) 
The poignant message and magnificent performances in the emotionally charges taxi scene reminds the viewer that this is a benchmark film worthy of its praise and ranking.  While the scene is a masterpiece of filmmaking and script writing however, Kazan was modest over the scene “The only thing I can take credit for in that scene” he said later “was being smart enough not to yell cut” 57

“Writers are not just writers, they are creators of worlds, sculptors of the mind, they are architects of language.” Jamie L. Harding

“Some things are hard to write about. After something happens to you, you go to write it down, and either you over dramatize it, or underplay it, exaggerate the wrong parts or ignore the important ones. At any rate, you never write it quite the way you want to.” Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
 “When you are angry, do not make any decisions, and stop talking. Under the influence of anger you always sin and say wrong things and will regret it afterwards.” Father John, “Christ is in Our Midst! Letters from a Russian Monk” 

 “Listen to your conscience. Don’t be afraid not to join the mob—if you feel inside it’s wrong. Don’t confuse being ‘soft’ with seeing the other guy’s point of view. … Avoid self-righteously turning on a friend, but have your friendship mean enough that you would be willing to share with your friend your judgment. Don’t assign away your judgment to achieve power.” George H.W. Bush, in a letter to his sons during the Watergate scandal

Miss Comstock’s Paragraph

A short story
John William Tuohy

   Catherine Comstock spent one hour looking for the letter. Then spying the crumpled letter in her delicate but wrinkled hand she asked herself aloud,  “How did that get there?” and then undertook another search for eyeglasses which sat on the top of  her head. And such was the way that Catherine Comstock, sole child of the illustrious Admiral Johnson Comstock of the Maryland Comstock's, lived out her days in the recent past years.
     A half hour later she had located the glasses and then the doorbell rang.
   “I am exhausted,” she said as she sprawled out across the day sofa where she waited for the day maid to answer the bell.  After a third ring she remembered she no longer employed a day maid and scurried through six rooms, half of the rooms on the first floor of her home, to answer the door, calling out “Un momento, por favor” even though she didn’t actually speak Spanish.  However, some decades before she had read Hemingway’s “The Sun Also Rises” and “For Whom the Bell Tolls”, and the works impressed her, so in a salute to the writer’s efforts she sometimes shouted out things in Spanish, whether she understood the meaning or not.
   Opening the extremely large, tall and heavy front door she found a postman holding a piece of paper.
   “Registered letter” he said.
   “No young man” she answered “I have no registered letter for you.  If I did I would have mailed it to you.”
   “No Ma’am” he answered politely “I have a registered letter for you.”
   “Why?” she asked pointedly.
  “Why what?” he responded.
  Taking a breath and releasing it with a deep sigh to show her disdain for his slowness she said, “Why would you have a registered letter for me? I don’t even know you.”
  “I’m with….” He said before she interrupted him.
   “You didn’t have to write it down did you?” she asked.   “And go through all the trouble of registering the letter.  You simply could have come here and told me what you want. Now, what do you want?”
  “I’m with the post office, Miss” he explained. “Someone has sent you a registered letter and you need to please sign for it so I can give it to you,” and he handed her the letter, the receipt and a pen and pointed for the line she was to sign on.
   She took the contraptions but before signing asked, “And who gave this to you to bring here?”
   “I don’t know Ma’am,” he replied.
    Staring at him solemnly, she wagged a finger and lectured, “You should not be so trusting, young fellow.”
   “Yes Ma’am” he said for he was a kind and a polite mailman.
   “Always” she continued “know from whom you are accepting things. What if there were illegal narcotics in this envelope and the police stopped you and found the illegal narcotics and arrested you?”
   “Yes Ma’am” he agreed. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
    Content that she had protected the working classes from themselves she nodded and signed the envelope. He took the receipt and checked the appropriate boxes for her and when he looked up again he saw the one dollar bill in the lady’s hand.
    “I can’t take that Ma’am,” he said with a weak smile.
    “Nonsense” she said and pushed the sole bill into his hand. “Use it to buy a suit so you can get a job,” and then she closed the massive door. She paused and tried to recall what she was doing before this distraction pillaged her day.
     Ah, yes, the letter from the editor.
   She was looking for the letter from the editor before that terribly confused man arrived at her door.  Twenty minutes later she found the letter where she had left it, on the desk in the library.
    Placing the certified letter down on the desk and picking up a month old letter from the editor, she conducted a light search for her glasses, again, and finding them on her head, again, she read the letter aloud.
     Dear Miss Comstock:
    We have received the envelope from you marked “The Life and Times of Admiral Johnson Comstock As told by his daughter. Chapter One.”  The envelope was empty. Perhaps you could resend.

   Kind regards.
   Jackson Beauregard, Publisher
   Sentential Publishing Company, New York New York

   She carefully refolded the letter and placed it back into its clean white envelope and took a second letter from the desk, opened it and read it aloud.

           Dear Miss Comstock:
    We have received another envelope from you marked “The Life and Times of Admiral Johnson Comstock. As told by his daughter. Chapter One.” This envelope was also empty. When we suggested that you resend, we meant perhaps you could send another envelope with the actual chapter  within the envelope.

     Kind regards.
   Jackson Beauregard, Publisher
   Sentential Publishing Company, New York New York

   “Why is that poor man looking for things in empty envelopes?” she asked herself aloud. “Perhaps I should telephone him.”
    And so she did. She dialed. The phone rang. A man answered.
   “Hello?”  asked the man’s voice.
    “Yes,” she said “I need to speak with Mister Beauregard.”
   “Is this Catherine?” the man asked.
   “Oh good heavens,” she said somewhat annoyed. “I don’t know who you are and why should I guess?  Catherine Comstock here.  Is Mister Beauregard available to speak on the telephone?
   “Miss Comstock, this is Jackson Beauregard,” said Jackson Beauregard. “I’m so….”
    “Well you should have just said that from the beginning,” she said.
   “Well I just want to say how pleased….” he began.
   “I don’t have time for Tom Foolery, Mister Beauregard. I am not a New Yorker you know,” she said. “My Father the Admiral always said, Chicago has no hills. It’s completely flat.”
   There was a very long pause on the phone.
   “Well anyway,” Jackson Beauregard said “I was about to give you a call myself.”
   “On the telephone?” Catherine asked. And there was another silence. 
   “Miss Comstock” he said in a very business-like fashion “as you know, our firm has paid you a very large advance for the biography you promised to write on your father’s life. Your attorney, Mister Willoughby, assured us the books would be completed.”
   “That’s correct” she said. “Good for you.”
   “But that was several years ago,” he continued “And now that Mister Willoughby….”
   “Mister Willoughby has died?” she asked.
   “Yes” he said.
   “Well why didn’t he tell me?” she asked.
   “I don’t know” he answered.
    “Some people” she sighed “are so unreliable. As my father use to say “Catherine, I don’t like new York.”
   Here was a long silence on the phone.
   “Miss Comstock,” Beauregard asked “is there someone else?”
   “Someone else what?” she asked in return.
   “Well someone else we could speak to” he asked.
   “My goodness gracious, there must be millions of people you could speak to,” she answered.
   “I meant” he said “Is there someone else we could speak to regarding the manuscript, a new attorney, a relative of some sort? Someone who handles your finances?”
   “Well there is Miss Florence,” Catherine replied. “She’s here twice a week although I have forgotten which weeks those are.”
   “And she is your accountant? Financial advisor?” he asked.
   “No, no, no dear. She cleans the house,” Catherine replied. “She has a grandson. His name is Tupac. He’s doing ten years in Maryland, some sort of Doctorial work I would think. Should you have a bill to be paid, send it here and I will see to it that Miss Florence looks it over.”
   “She handles your finances?” he asked.
   “Oh yes” Catherine said sweetly. “Miss Florence has worked since she was 16 years old. Isn’t that wonderful Catherine?”
   “This is Jackson Beauregard, Miss Comstock.”
   “Oh, the poor fellow with empty envelopes,” she answered. “I’ve been meaning to call you. You have sent me some letters regarding the biography I plan to write on my father. I finished the first chapter you know.”
   “That’s delightful, Miss Comstock” said Beauregard. “I’m glad to hear it.”
   “My father was a great man. He believed in us, in our greatness as a people. And he believed in freedom, for everyone, everywhere because he held the individual, each child of God, as a sacred thing. And he spent his life defending that principle.”
   “That he did, Miss Comstock, that he did,” said Jackson Beauregard. “We owe him much.”
   “Now, young man” Catherine said, “What is it that you have called me about?”  
    There was a pause and then Jackson Beauregard, who was a good man, a decent man said, “I guess I just wanted to say hello.”
   “Oh” said Catherine with surprise, “Well hello to you as well.”

GOOD WORDS TO HAVE...................................

Oppugn: (uh-PYOON)   To call in question; to contradict; to dispute. From Latin oppugnare (to fight or oppose), from ob- (against) + pugnare (to fight), from pugnus (fist). Ultimately from the Indo-European root peuk- (to prick) which is also the source of point, puncture, pungent, punctual, poignant, pounce, poniard, impugn, pugilist, and pugnacious. Earliest documented use: 1435.

 A Letter from Hunter S. Thompson that Changed My Life

      By Justin Gammill

Roughly 57 years ago, a 22-year-old Hunter S. Thompson wrote a letter to a friend that had asked him for advice. On the surface, this doesn’t seem like a big deal – 57 years ago letters were just how people communicated. What stands out to me is the fact that Thompson wrote this letter way before anyone really knew who he was. The letter, in my opinion, is a pure statement of faith, written by one of the most influential writers of our time, solely for the purpose of helping his friend. I know the letter wasn’t written to me, but I still read it like it was.

April 22, 1958
57 Perry Street
New York City

Dear Hume,

You ask advice: ah, what a very human and very dangerous thing to do! For to give advice to a man who asks what to do with his life implies something very close to egomania. To presume to point a man to the right and ultimate goal — to point with a trembling finger in the RIGHT direction is something only a fool would take upon himself.
I am not a fool, but I respect your sincerity in asking my advice. I ask you though, in listening to what I say, to remember that all advice can only be a product of the man who gives it. What is truth to one may be disaster to another. I do not see life through your eyes, nor you through mine. If I were to attempt to give you specific advice, it would be too much like the blind leading the blind.
“To be, or not to be: that is the question: Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles … ” (Shakespeare)
And indeed, that IS the question: whether to float with the tide, or to swim for a goal. It is a choice we must all make consciously or unconsciously at one time in our lives. So few people understand this! Think of any decision you’ve ever made which had a bearing on your future: I may be wrong, but I don’t see how it could have been anything but a choice however indirect — between the two things I’ve mentioned: the floating or the swimming.
But why not float if you have no goal? That is another question. It is unquestionably better to enjoy the floating than to swim in uncertainty. So how does a man find a goal? Not a castle in the stars, but a real and tangible thing. How can a man be sure he’s not after the “big rock candy mountain,” the enticing sugar-candy goal that has little taste and no substance?
The answer — and, in a sense, the tragedy of life — is that we seek to understand the goal and not the man. We set up a goal which demands of us certain things: and we do these things. We adjust to the demands of a concept which CANNOT be valid. When you were young, let us say that you wanted to be a fireman. I feel reasonably safe in saying that you no longer want to be a fireman. Why? Because your perspective has changed. It’s not the fireman who has changed, but you. Every man is the sum total of his reactions to experience. As your experiences differ and multiply, you become a different man, and hence your perspective changes. This goes on and on. Every reaction is a learning process; every significant experience alters your perspective.
So it would seem foolish, would it not, to adjust our lives to the demands of a goal we see from a different angle every day? How could we ever hope to accomplish anything other than galloping neurosis?
The answer, then, must not deal with goals at all, or not with tangible goals, anyway. It would take reams of paper to develop this subject to fulfillment. God only knows how many books have been written on “the meaning of man” and that sort of thing, and god only knows how many people have pondered the subject. (I use the term “god only knows” purely as an expression.) There’s very little sense in my trying to give it up to you in the proverbial nutshell, because I’m the first to admit my absolute lack of qualifications for reducing the meaning of life to one or two paragraphs.
I’m going to steer clear of the word “existentialism,” but you might keep it in mind as a key of sorts. You might also try something called “Being and Nothingness” by Jean-Paul Sartre, and another little thing called “Existentialism: From Dostoyevsky to Sartre.” These are merely suggestions. If you’re genuinely satisfied with what you are and what you’re doing, then give those books a wide berth. (Let sleeping dogs lie.) But back to the answer. As I said, to put our faith in tangible goals would seem to be, at best, unwise. So we do not strive to be firemen, we do not strive to be bankers, nor policemen, nor doctors. WE STRIVE TO BE OURSELVES.
But don’t misunderstand me. I don’t mean that we can’t BE firemen, bankers, or doctors — but that we must make the goal conform to the individual, rather than make the individual conform to the goal. In every man, heredity and environment have combined to produce a creature of certain abilities and desires — including a deeply ingrained need to function in such a way that his life will be MEANINGFUL. A man has to BE something; he has to matter.
As I see it then, the formula runs something like this: a man must choose a path which will let his ABILITIES function at maximum efficiency toward the gratification of his DESIRES. In doing this, he is fulfilling a need (giving himself identity by functioning in a set pattern toward a set goal), he avoids frustrating his potential (choosing a path which puts no limit on his self-development), and he avoids the terror of seeing his goal wilt or lose its charm as he draws closer to it (rather than bending himself to meet the demands of that which he seeks, he has bent his goal to conform to his own abilities and desires).
In short, he has not dedicated his life to reaching a pre-defined goal, but he has rather chosen a way of life he KNOWS he will enjoy. The goal is absolutely secondary: it is the functioning toward the goal which is important. And it seems almost ridiculous to say that a man MUST function in a pattern of his own choosing; for to let another man define your own goals is to give up one of the most meaningful aspects of life — the definitive act of will which makes a man an individual.
Let’s assume that you think you have a choice of eight paths to follow (all pre-defined paths, of course). And let’s assume that you can’t see any real purpose in any of the eight. THEN — and here is the essence of all I’ve said — you MUST FIND A NINTH PATH.
Naturally, it isn’t as easy as it sounds. You’ve lived a relatively narrow life, a vertical rather than a horizontal existence. So it isn’t any too difficult to understand why you seem to feel the way you do. But a man who procrastinates in his CHOOSING will inevitably have his choice made for him by circumstance.
So if you now number yourself among the disenchanted, then you have no choice but to accept things as they are, or to seriously seek something else. But beware of looking for goals: look for a way of life. Decide how you want to live and then see what you can do to make a living WITHIN that way of life. But you say, “I don’t know where to look; I don’t know what to look for.”
And there’s the crux. Is it worth giving up what I have to look for something better? I don’t know — is it? Who can make that decision but you? But even by DECIDING TO LOOK, you go a long way toward making the choice.
If I don’t call this to a halt, I’m going to find myself writing a book. I hope it’s not as confusing as it looks at first glance. Keep in mind, of course, that this is MY WAY of looking at things. I happen to think that it’s pretty generally applicable, but you may not. Each of us has to create our own credo — this merely happens to be mine.
If any part of it doesn’t seem to make sense, by all means call it to my attention. I’m not trying to send you out “on the road” in search of Valhalla, but merely pointing out that it is not necessary to accept the choices handed down to you by life as you know it. There is more to it than that — no one HAS to do something he doesn’t want to do for the rest of his life. But then again, if that’s what you wind up doing, by all means convince yourself that you HAD to do it. You’ll have lots of company.

And that’s it for now. Until I hear from you again, I remain,

your friend,



“Some may never live, but the crazy never die.”

“If you're going to be crazy, you have to get paid for it or else you're going to be locked up.”

“I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me.”

“These things happen. One day you run everything, and the next day you run like a dog.”

“Sex without love is as hollow and ridiculous as love without sex.”

“Life has become immeasurably better since I have been forced to stop taking it seriously.”

“I have a theory that the truth is never told during the nine-to-five hours.”

“Freedom is something that dies unless it's used.”

“You won't find reasonable men on the tops of tall mountains.”

“Anything that gets your blood racing is probably worth doing.”

“If you can't make yourself understood by your friends, you'll be in trouble when your enemies come for you.”

“Sleep late, have fun, get wild, drink whiskey and drive fast on empty streets with nothing in mind but falling in love and not getting arrested.”

“He that is taught only by himself has a fool for a master.”

“For every moment of triumph, for every instance of beauty, many souls must be trampled.”

“Walk tall, kick ass, learn to speak Arabic, love music and never forget you come from a long line of truth seekers, lovers and warriors.”

“Journalism, to me, is just another drug – a free ride to scenes I'd probably miss if I stayed straight.”

“The TV business is a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free and good men die like dogs. There is also a negative side.”

“Most people who deal in words don't have much faith in them and I am no exception.”

“Absolute truth is a very rare and dangerous commodity in the context of professional journalism.”

“The best fiction is far more true than any kind of journalism.”

“Las Vegas is the savage heart of the American Dream.”

“Weird heroes and mould-breaking champions exist as living proof to those who need it that the tyranny of 'the rat race' is not yet final.”

“The truth, when you finally chase it down is almost always far worse than your darkest visions and fears”

“Publishers are notoriously slothful about numbers, unless they're attached to dollar signs - unlike journalists, quarterbacks, and felony criminal defendants who tend to be keenly aware of numbers at all times.”

“Life’s journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting ‘Holy shit…what a ride!” 


“The most basic of all human needs is the need to understand and be understood.”                              
                                                                                                                                               Ralph Nichols

“In the long run, the sharpest weapon of all is a kind and gentle spirit.” Anne Frank

 “Healing doesn’t mean the damage never existed. It means the damage no longer controls our life.” John William Tuohy


Councilman's plan: Create website to make it easy for detainees and families to post bail

The city should make it easier for detainees and their families to post bail by creating a website that accepts credit card payments, says a local lawmaker.
Currently, defendants who don’t have the money to pay bail immediately after their arraignment are sent to jail on Rikers Island. Detainees are only released after a friend or family member travels to the Manhattan Detention Center or the Vernon C. Bain Correctional Center in the Bronx to post bail.
That tedious system often forces people to miss work or pay for emergency child care, and can be even more inconvenient for those living out of state.
City Councilman Rory Lancman (D-Queens) plans to propose an online payment system and several other bail system reforms during a Criminal Justice Committee hearing Wednesday.
He joins a growing list of elected officials calling for sweeping changes in the system, which trapped Kalief Browder in jail for over three years on robbery charges after he was unable to post $3,000 to be released.
“We are trying to reform our criminal justice system, and in particular the nightmare known as Rikers Island,” Lancman said.
Kalief Browder, who spent three years in Rikers Island without ever being convicted of a crime,  committed suicide in his family's Bronx apartment earlier this month.ABC News
Kalief Browder, who spent three years in Rikers Island without ever being convicted of a crime,  committed suicide in his family's Bronx apartment earlier this month.
The Queens lawmaker also wants to speed up the bail process. Currently, it takes an average of four to five hours for a defendant’s case file to be faxed from Rikers Island to the cashier.
Lancman is also calling for some defendants to be held longer in court after their arraignment to give them time to post bail. Defendants are currently held for less than two hours after arraignment, often not long enough, say inmate advocates, to raise the money necessary to avoid being sent to Rikers Island.
As for Browder, 16 when he was arrested, he was repeatedly beaten by correction officers and spent more than two years in solitary.
Robbery charges against him were eventually dismissed in 2013, but after his release he struggled to get his life back on track and committed suicide earlier this month, succumbing to the trauma of his nightmarish Rikers experience.
“I think his case was an eye-opener to New Yorkers across the board,” Mayor de Blasio told reporters last Monday. “There’s just no reason that someone should be held for a long period of time if they can’t pay bail and we can help, a modest bail level like that.”
All told, 53% of detainees on Rikers Island last year were incarcerated because they were unable to pay bail, which is frequently $1,000 or less, according to the city Department of Correction.
City Council Speaker Melissa Mark-Viverito wants to create a $1.4 million citywide bail account for nonviolent, low-level offenders. The fund would actually cut city costs by slashing the number of inmates on Rikers Island, she said.
Mark-Viverito cited the Browder case as a primary example for the need for broad changes.
“We as a city should be grieving and should be figuring out how to continue to get on that road to reform because it’s desperately needed,” Mark-Viverito said.
With Erin Durkin

From Julius Caesar
(Marc Antony speaks)

Visit our Shakespeare Blog at the address below

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them;
The good is oft interred with their bones;
So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus
Hath told you Caesar was ambitious:
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it.
Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest–
For Brutus is an honourable man;
So are they all, all honourable men–
Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome
Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill:
Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept:
Ambition should be made of sterner stuff:
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honourable man.
You all did see that on the Lupercal
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And, sure, he is an honourable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause:
What cause withholds you then, to mourn for him?
O judgment! thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason. Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,

Half the lies they tell about me aren't true.”


Compiled by

John William Tuohy

Headlines and news

Actual Headlines

Dead Officer on Force for 18 Years

Dinner Featured Cat, American Food

All Utah Condemned to Face Firing Squad

Robber Holds Up Albert's Hosiery

Chinese Apeman Dated

Woman Kicked by her Husband said to be Greatly Improved

Former Man Dies in California

MacArthur Flies Back to Front

Shut-Ins Can Grow Indoors with Lights

Deer Kill 17,000

Court to Try Shooting Defendant

Lucky Man Sees Pals Die

Passengers Hit by Cancelled Trains

New Vaccine To Contain Rabies

Lucky Victim Stabbed Three Times

Man Struck By Lightning Faces Battery Charge

President of Company Says, "Stud Tires Out"

Arson Suspect Held in Massachusetts Fire

Bridge Held Up By Red Tape

Man, Minus Ear, Waives Hearing

Kids Make Nutritious Snacks

Plane Too Close To Ground, Crash Probe Told

British Left Waffles on Falklands

Schwarzenegger Wins on Budget, but More Lies Ahead

New Vaccine May Contain AIDS

Drunk Gets Nine Months in Violin Case

Iraqi Head Seeks Arms

Hospitals Sued By Seven Foot Doctors

Expert Says Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash

Bank Drive-in Window Blocked By Board

Typhoon Rips Through Cemetery; Hundreds Dead

Astronaut Takes Blame for Gas in Spacecraft

Grandmother of Eight Makes Hole in One


Supreme Court Rules that Murderers shall not be electrocuted twice for the same Crime

Deaf Mute Gets New Hearing in Killing

Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers

House Passes Gas Tax Onto Senate

Stiff Opposition Expected to Casketless Funeral Plan

Two Convicts Evade Noose, Jury Hung

Police Found Safe Under Blanket

William Kelly Was Fed Secretary

Milk Drinkers are Turning to Powder

Safety Experts Say School Bus Passengers Should Be Belted

Quarter of a Million Chinese Live on Water

Farmer Bill Dies in House

Queen Mary Having Bottom Scraped

Is There a Ring of Debris Around Uranus?

Prostitutes Appeal to Pope

Panda Mating Fails - Veterinarian Takes Over

NJ Judge to Rule on Nude Beach

Child's Stool Great for Use in Garden

Dr. Ruth to Talk About Sex With Newspaper Editors

The Governor's Pen Is Busy (without the space between the 3rd and 4th words)

Organ Festival Ends in Smashing Climax

Eye Drops Off Shelf

Squad Helps Dog Bite Victim

Dealers Will Hear Car Talk at Noon

Enraged Cow Injures Farmer with Ax

Lawmen From Mexico Barbecue Guests

Miners Refuse to Work After Death

Two Soviet Ships Collide - One Dies

Two Sisters Reunite After Eighteen Years at Checkout Counter

Never Withhold Herpes From Loved One

Nicaragua Sets Goal to Wipe Out Literacy

Drunk Drivers Paid $1,000 in 1984

Autos Killing 110 a Day, Let's Resolve to do Better

If Strike Isn't Settled Quickly it May Last a While

War Dims Hope for Peace

Smokers are Productive, but Death Cuts Efficiency

Cold Wave Linked to Temperatures

Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half

Child's Death Ruins Couple's Holiday

Blind Woman Gets New Kidney from Dad She Hasn't Seen in Years

New Housing for Elderly Not Yet Dead

Man is Fatally Slain

Shot at the local gun club.

"Slain Doctor Worried About His Death"

"Youth Hit By Train Is Rushed To Two Hospitals"

"Ministry Probes Dead Fish"

“Golfing Immortal Dies Aged 69"

"Flawless Take-Off Marred By Hitch"

March Planned For Next August

Blind Bishop Appointed To See

Lingerie Shipment Hijacked--Thief Gives Police The Slip

L.A. Voters Approve Urban Renewal By Landslide

Patient At Death's Door--Doctors Pull Him Through

Latin Course To Be Canceled--No Interest Among Students, Et Al.

Diaper Market Bottoms Out

Croupiers On Strike--Management: "No Big Deal"

Stadium Air Conditioning Fails--Fans Protest

Henshaw Offers Rare Opportunity to Goose Hunters

Connie Tied, Nude Policeman Testifies

Women's Movement Called More Broad-Based

Antique Stripper to Display Wares at Store

Prostitutes Appeal to Pope

Split Rears in Farmers Movement

Child's Stool Great for Use in Garden

Idaho Group Organizes to Help Service Widows

Columnist Gets Urologist in Trouble With His Peers

Russian Virgin Lands Short of Goal Again

Teacher Strikes Idle Kids

Lawyers Give Poor Free Legal Advice

Juvenile Court to Try Shooting Defendant

Fund Set Up for Beating Victim's Kin

Killer Sentenced to Die for Second Time in 10 Years

Never Withhold Herpes Infection From Loved One

Cancer Society Honors Marlboro Man

Nicaragua Sets Goal to Wipe Out Literacy

Autos Killing 110 a Day--Let's Resolve to Do Better

20-Year Friendship Ends at Altar

War Dims Hope For Peace

If Strike Isn't Settled Quickly, It May Last A While

Cold Wave Linked to Temperatures

Half of U.S. High Schools Require Some Study for Graduation

Blind Woman Gets New Kidney from Dad She Hasn't Seen in Years

Man is Fatally Slain

Something Went Wrong in Jet Crash, Experts Say

Death Causes Loneliness, Feelings of Isolation

Flaming Toilet Seat Causes Evacuation at High School

Defendants Speech Ends in Long Sentence

Police Begin Campaign to Run Down Jaywalkers

House Passes Gas Tax Onto Senate

Police Discover Crack in Australia

Stiff Opposition Expected to Casketless Funeral Plan

Many Antiques Seen at D.A.R. Meeting

William Kelly, 87, was Fed Secretary

Collegians are Turning to Vegetables

Scientists to Have Ford's Ear

Quarter of a Million Chinese Live on Water

Hershey Bars Protest

County Officials to Talk Rubbish

Carter Plans Swell Deficit

Caribbean Islands Drift to Left

Farmer Bill Dies in House

Iraqi Head Seeks Arms

Safety Experts Say School Bus Passengers Should Be Belted

Drunk Gets Nine Months in Violin Case

Survivor of Siamese Twins Joins Parents

Is There a Ring of Debris around Uranus?

Stud Tires Out

Panda Mating Fails; Veterinarian Takes Over

British Left Waffles on Falkland Islands

Lung Cancer in Women Mushrooms

Eye Drops off Shelf

Reagan Wins on Budget, But More Lies Ahead

Squad Helps Dog Bite Victim

Shot Off Woman's Leg Helps Nicklaus to 66

Enraged Cow Injures Farmer with Ax

Plane Too Close to Ground, Crash Probe Told

Miners Refuse to Work after Death

Stolen Painting Found by Tree

Two Soviet Ships Collide, One Dies

Two Sisters Reunited after 18 Years in Checkout Counter

Never Withhold Herpes Infection from Loved One

Drunken Drivers Paid $1000 in `84

Enfields Couple Slain; Police Suspect Homicide

Red Tape Holds Up New Bridge

Deer Kill 17,000

Typhoon Rips Through Cemetery; Hundreds Dead

Man Struck by Lightning Faces Battery Charge

New Study of Obesity Looks for Larger Test Group

Astronaut Takes Blame for Gas in Spacecraft

Kids Make Nutritious Snacks

Chef Throws His Heart into Helping Feed Needy

Arson Suspect is Held in Massachusetts Fire

British Union Finds Dwarfs in Short Supply

Ban On Soliciting Dead in Trotwood

Lansing Residents Can Drop Off Trees

Local High School Dropouts Cut in Half

New Vaccine May Contain Rabies

Man Minus Ear Waives Hearing

Deaf College Opens Doors to Hearing

Air Head Fired

Steals Clock, Faces Time

Prosecutor Releases Probe into Undersheriff

Old School Pillars are Replaced by Alumni

Bank Drive-in Window Blocked by Board

Hospitals are Sued by 7 Foot Doctors

Some Pieces of Rock Hudson Sold at Auction

Sex Education Delayed, Teachers Request Training

Include your Children when Baking Cookies

Police suspect body in bin may have been dumped

"Holy Mother Crushes Sacred Infant" Referring to a basketball game between two Catholic High Schools.

"Joint Committee Investigates Marijuana Use"

"Church Plan Upsets Brothel"

"The glamorous 17-year-old wants to be a policewoman some day, like her dad.”

"Although as a rider and breeder she has won countless prizes, she says she enjoys an occasional beating."

"The driver involved in this incident asked that her gender not be revealed."

"There's an overturned tractor-trailer heading north on Route 93."

"The bodies could not be identified because they were found face down."

“Doctors say the longer the babies live, the better chance they'll have at surviving

"Today Lesbian forces invaded...no, sorry, that should be Lesbianese."

"Merle Haggard: The documentary was filmed over three years. Among those interviewed were his two ex-wives, Kris Kristofferson and Robert Duvall."

"Due to a typing error, Gov Dukakis was incorrectly identified in the third paragraph as Mike Tyson."
"March 18: Outdoor Adventure Series: Indoor Rock Climbing"

"As Phil De Glanville said, each game is unique, and this one is no different than any other."

"The ball is going back, Smith is chasing it, it's still going back, Smith jumps, he hits his head on the wall and it rolls off! It's rolling all the way back to the infield. This is a terrible day for the Padres!"

Grandmother of eight makes hole in one

Deaf mute gets new hearing in killing

Police begin campaign to run down jaywalkers

House passes gas tax onto senate

Stiff opposition expected to casketless funeral plan

Two convicts evade noose, jury hung

William Kelly was fed secretary

Milk drinkers are turning to powder

Safety experts say school bus passengers should be belted

Quarter of a million Chinese live on water

Farmer bill dies in house

Iraqi head seeks arms

Queen Mary having bottom scraped

Is there a ring of debris around Uranus?

Prostitutes appeal to Pope

Panda mating fails - veterinarian takes over

NJ judge to rule on nude beach

Child's stool great for use in garden

Dr. Ruth to talk about sex with newspaper editors

Soviet virgin lands short of goal again

Organ festival ends in smashing climax

Eye drops off shelf

Squad helps dog bite victim

Dealers will hear car talk at noon

Enraged cow injures farmer with ax

Lawmen from Mexico barbecue guests

Miners refuse to work after death

Two Soviet ships collide - one dies

Two sisters reunite after eighteen years at checkout counter

Never withhold herpes from loved one

Nicaragua sets goal to wipe out literacy

Drunk drivers paid $1,000 in 1984

Autos killing 110 a day, let's resolve to do better

If strike isn't settled quickly it may last a while

War dims hope for peace

Smokers are productive, but death cuts efficiency

Cold wave linked to temperatures

Child's death ruins couple's holiday

Blind woman gets new kidney from dad she hasn't seen in years

Man is fatally slain

Something went wrong in jet crash, experts say

Death causes loneliness, feeling of isolation

“If only faces could talk”...- Pat Summerall, Sportscaster, during the Super Bowl

“And now the sequence of events in no particular order.”- Dan Rather, television news anchor


In 1962, six year old John Tuohy, his two brothers and two sisters entered Connecticut’s foster care system and were promptly split apart. Over the next ten years, John would live in more than ten foster homes, group homes and state schools, from his native Waterbury to Ansonia, New Haven, West Haven, Deep River and Hartford. In the end, a decade later, the state returned him to the same home and the same parents they had taken him from. As tragic as is funny compelling story will make you cry and laugh as you journey with this child to overcome the obstacles of the foster care system and find his dreams.


John William Tuohy is a writer who lives in Washington DC. He holds an MFA in writing from Lindenwood University. He is the author of numerous non-fiction on the history of organized crime including the ground break biography of bootlegger Roger Tuohy "When Capone's Mob Murdered Touhy" and "Guns and Glamour: A History of Organized Crime in Chicago."

His non-fiction crime short stories have appeared in The New Criminologist, American Mafia and other publications. John won the City of Chicago's Celtic Playfest for his work The Hannigan's of Beverly, and his short story fiction work, Karma Finds Franny Glass, appeared in AdmitTwo Magazine in October of 2008.

His play, Cyberdate.Com, was chosen for a public performance at the Actors Chapel in Manhattan in February of 2007 as part of the groups Reading Series for New York project. In June of 2008, the play won the Virginia Theater of The First Amendment Award for best new play. 

Contact John:


Architecture for the blog of it

Art for the Blog of It

Art for the Pop of it

Photography for the blog of it

Music for the Blog of it

Sculpture this and Sculpture that

The art of War (Propaganda art through the ages)

Album Art (Photographic arts)

Pulp Fiction Trash (The art of Pulp Fiction covers)

Admit it, you want to Read this Book (The art of Pulp Fiction covers)

The Godfather Trilogy BlogSpot

On the Waterfront: The Making of a great American Film

Absolutely blogalicious

The Wee Book of Irish Recipes (Book support site)

Good chowda (New England foods)

Old New England Recipes (Book support site)

And I Love Clams (New England foods)

In Praise of the Rhode Island Wiener (New England foods)

Wicked Cool New England Recipes (New England foods)

Old New England Recipes (New England foods)

Foster Care new and Updates

Aging out of the system

Murder, Death and Abuse in the Foster Care system

Angel and Saints in the Foster Care System

The Foster Children’s Blogs

Foster Care Legislation

The Foster Children’s Bill of Right

Foster Kids own Story

The Adventures of Foster Kid.

Me vs. Diabetes (Diabetes education site)

The Quotable Helen Keller

Teddy Roosevelt's Letters to his children (Book support site)

The Quotable Machiavelli (Book support site)

Whatever you do, don't laugh

The Quotable Grouch Marx

A Big Blog of Irish Literature

The Wee Blog of Irish Jokes (Book support blog)

The Wee Blog of Irish Recipes

The Irish American Gangster

The Irish in their Own Words

When Washington Was Irish

The Wee Book of Irish Recipes (Book support site)

Following Fitzgerald


The Blogable Robert Frost

Charles Dickens

The Beat Poets of the Forever Generation

Holden Caulfield Blog Spot

The Quotable Oscar Wilde

The Quotable Thoreau

Old New England Recipes

Wicked Cool New England Recipes


The New England Mafia

And I Love Clams

In Praise of the Rhode Island Wiener

Watch Hill

York Beach

The Connecticut History Blog

The Connecticut Irish

Good chowda

God, How I hated the 70s

Child of the Sixties Forever

The Kennedy’s in the 60’s

Music of the Sixties Forever

Elvis and Nixon at the White House (Book support site)

Beatles Fan Forever

Year One, 1955

Robert Kennedy in His Own Words

The 1980s were fun

The 1990s. The last decade.

The Russian Mafia

The American Jewish Gangster

The Mob in Hollywood

We Only Kill Each Other

Early Gangsters of New York City

Al Capone: Biography of a self-made Man

The Life and World of Al Capone

The Salerno Report

Guns and Glamour

The St. Valentine’s Day Massacre

Mob Testimony

Recipes we would Die For

The Prohibition in Pictures

The Mob in Pictures

The Mob in Vegas

The Irish American Gangster

Roger Touhy Gangster

Chicago’s Mob Bosses

Chicago Gang Land: It Happened Here

Whacked: One Hundred years of Murder in Gangland

The Mob Across America

Mob Cops, Lawyers and Front Men

Shooting the Mob: Dutch Schultz

Bugsy& His Flamingo: The Testimony of Virginia Hill

After Valachi. Hearings before the US Senate on Organized Crime

Mob Buster: Report of Special Agent Virgil Peterson to the Kefauver Committee (Book support site)

The US Government’s Timeline of Organized Crime (Book support site)

The Kefauver Organized Crime Hearings (Book support site)

Joe Valachi's testimony on the Mafia (Book support site)

Mobsters in the News

Shooting the Mob: Dead Mobsters (Book support site)

The Stolen Years Full Text (Roger Touhy)

Mobsters in Black and White

Mafia Gangsters, Wiseguys and Goodfellas

Whacked: One Hundred Years of Murder and Mayhem in the Chicago Mob (Book support site)

Gangland Gaslight: The Killing of Rosy Rosenthal (Book support site)

The Best of the Mob Files Series (Book support site)

It’s All Greek Mythology to me

Psychologically Relevant

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Perfect Behavior

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DC Behind the Monuments

Washington Oddities

When Washington Was Irish