One of the recurring themes of this column that I keep returning to — like a dog that annoys its master by wearing holes in the living room rug by habitually turning circles and clawing at the carpet with its paws before lying down — is the incontrovertible truth that people used to have more fun.
If you’re worried about whether society will hold together, a SUNY college commencement just might be a cure for what ails you.
I’m a dog person. Except when it comes to boats. With boats, I worry I might be a cat person.
Built nearly 25 years ago in Arichat, a small village on Isle Madame off Cape Breton Island in eastern Nova Scotia, the Rock Water is a stout craft and has served me well over the years. But my luck finally ran out last year, and it seemed everything was breaking down on a weekly basis. First was the demise of my fish finder, followed by my GPS/radar. Then the oil cooler went kaput. Next to die was the alternator.
