Monthly Archives: July 2016

God’s Country

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He reminded me of Harpo Marx, with his tousled red curls, and big brown eyes. Continue reading

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The Candy Man

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The ukulele is super easy. A 5 year-old could play it. It’s perfect. Continue reading

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Orphan Honor

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I’m at open auditions for Annie, the musical…The beautiful Palmer House Hotel in Chicago’s Loop is crammed to the gills with little goils, and I’m one. Continue reading

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Buttermilk Lane

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My husband, and I were musicians living on the west coast of Ireland, which meant we were living on the dole. The dole, if you don’t know, is welfare, but it pays better, and there’s less humiliation. Continue reading

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Heat

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Hell is surely a cold place. I ought to know. I grew up in Chicago, with a mother who didn’t like heating bills. “Put on a sweater”, she’d say in the toughen-up school of Irish compassion… Continue reading

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Roots Day

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We were the only white family on the block. The Finnegans. Continue reading

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