The Last Town Chorus’ Travelogue

New Jersey Turnpike homeward on a rainy Sunday after Thanksgiving, drained. To New York, my adopted home.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)

(Sent from my Palm phone.)

(Sent from my Palm phone.)

The new building on my street has its skin.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)

(Sent from my Palm phone.)

(Sent from my Palm phone.)

8am on a Sunday…hundreds of dogs circling in bitter bitter cold…

(Sent from my Palm phone)

(Sent from my Palm phone.)

I’m contented when I hear piano echoing through my home. I think I’ll always find that to be so.

(Sent from my Palm phone.)