I had an odd remembrance the other day. First I recalled the ascot I wore for a couple of my teenage years, probably in the same time period that I bought into the popularity of Carnaby Street--you know, all those splashy colors, sometimes with white cuffs on colored or striped shirts, sometimes white collars that also contrasted. I recall also a blazer that I guess you'd call a dark gold; if there was some other name for the color, I never learned it. Maybe some called it "tan", though I don't recall it. At any rate, I remember that the ascot went with the blazer, though I can't recall the ascot's color or if it had spots or stripes or any other pattern. Ain't memory a wonderful thing when it decides to leave so many holes in the fabric?
Saturday and Sundries - Occasional commenter "JD" in the UK sent me, as a "wonderful antidote to the general madness all around us", a link to a story about one Justo Gallego (righ...
11 hours ago