I couldn’t help noticing three noisy but well-restrained card sharks huddled closely, absorbed in a splashdown of discarded jacks and queens. A loving patriarch and his cunning and brave young sons, sprung free from their school routines, were now eagerly plotting their next kills. Just a few days before, further down the coast, an enraged tiger shark,  (the real deal), had nipped an unfortunate swimmer and scooped up national headlines … but these players were far too immersed in their own impending blood bath to worry about sea battles. It was probably about 8AM and my tanksuit was still...

A friend’s text alert from the mainland blared the disastrous news on Friday night as we were quietly awaiting a lecture about our nation’s space plans from none other than NASA’s ebullient administrator, Charles Bolden. Forget about our future vacations to Mars —  this very second, a Category V Tropical Cyclone was on the loose!  And it apparently had signed in with my name!  “Look what you did,” screeched another pal’s email the next day — it seemed like I’d destroyed the Vanuatu Island chain. Pam was all over the news … Cyclone Pam this...

Now if Jon (my former editor at Brandon’s, heavily armed with both Harvard and Berkeley credentials) were running the show here, he’d never let me get away with this!  The entry that you’re about to read — at least, I hope you will — is being presented for the third time.  A senior resident of my “Stories” section, after having been conceived in September,’06, “Looking Up” was beamed over here on 9/17/13, after I succumbed to the spell of  yet another full moon. And now, it’s back again… Twice was more than enough, Jon...