Author: Frank J. Tassone

moving dinosaurs the animatronics that bring battles to life his smile when T-Rex downs triceratops The tiger lies on his side, eyes closed. Another one—the next enclosure over—at least lifts his head. As indifferently...

Another doctor’s office. The same sterile scent and antiseptic odor in the exam room. Light-wood paneling, natural setting, photos on the wall, white Formica countertops. All to find out if my medication has begun...

We heard a blue jay scold, and a robin chased it off for its troubles. That robin sings away its remaining rivals. Then Mark’s lawn mower roars to life. After we though he finished....

The desk lamps reflect on the mirror-still pool. It’s a clear night. Orion’s belt, the big and little dippers, and the other constellations I can’t name shine in the clear sky. The crickets and...

The beer sampler at the Yard House comes in six 5-ounce glasses. That’s a duce shy of two pints. Chris and I down them while we share an appetizer of boneless buffalo wings with...

More than twenty years ago, I sat on a faded beige, chrysanthemum-patterned couch in New City’s first expresso bar, Caffeine Jones. Sipping hot cappuccino, I channeled my angst though Natalie Goldberg’s write-practice drills, filling...

We make it to the Veteran’s Day concert at West Point. The storied USMA band plays melodies dating back to “Chester”, the most popular drum and piper tune during the Revolutionary War. The music...

Mira calls us to dinner. I rise from the chaise, still wrestling with the enjoyment of a summer day—reading, writing, being with family—while acknowledging the coming of another September. And the stressful year it...