From the Gulf

Galveston: Down Goes the Pier

I was amazed to witness it.  And by witness it, I mean watch for nearly two hours on YouTube the slow crumbling and breaking away of a pier at 61st street in Galveston.  Tropical Storm Beta (for only the second time in history we have reached the Greek alphabet to name storms) hadn’t even hit Galveston with her full impact and already her presence was being felt.  As waves churned in the Gulf the Fishing Pier took a very slow deliberate beating and eventually fell at about 10:05 pm local time. Listen to David narrate this blog on Spotify! The […]

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Galveston Ghost Story

I never expected to be in this situation—living in Galveston and incidentally right next door to Adi’s parents.  I have settled into this odd reality where I am living equal parts Everybody Loves Raymond with a healthy dose of The Addams Family thrown in to make it feel a little less conventional.  Adi and I live in the Carriage House which many years ago was the servant’s quarters/horse stable that was in service to the Big House (the family calls it the Big House) right next door to it.  The Big House is a large Victorian home that has a

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As the Hurricane Churns

A hurricane is looming in the Gulf.  Actually, two hurricanes that go by the names Marco and Laura.  Both seem to be vying for America’s attention as they pick up steam and head towards the mainland.  This would be Adi and my first hurricane.  We only arrived in Galveston three short weeks ago and already Mother Nature decided to test our pluck to see what we are made of.  Neither Adi nor I watch or read the news and we don’t even own a television, so to say that we are out of the loop is an understatement.  There is

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Confessions of a Parrothead

“I’d rather die while I’m living than live while I’m dead.” I have a secret.  I don’t really reveal it to anyone and in fact, it took me a number of years to admit it to Adi until I finally realized I couldn’t keep it from her anymore.  I am a Parrothead.  Yes, it’s true.  It runs through my blood and as much as I hate to admit it, no matter how long I may go on the wagon without listening, when I rediscover Jimmy Buffett, I can’t go long without my fix.  I can’t stop listening to his poetically

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The Bagel Nazi

  There are certain class distinctions living on Galveston Island, almost like a caste system.  People who call Galveston home are broken up into two specific groups that are identified through two acronyms—BOI or IBC.  Neither Adi nor I knew this until we began mentioning to people that we lived on the island.  Whenever me mentioned this we were met with the question: Are you BOI or IBC?  It didn’t take locals long to discover that we were definitely not BOI because we didn’t know what BOI meant.  Longtime residents quickly detected that we were indeed IBC because any BOI

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