Introduction

 You see, I forget.

Even the most basic rules. Be local. local, local, local. Ticket to universality. Which, at this point (pushing the 70s) I couldn’t care less about. There is no more writing. There is only showing off. Which is my chosen mètier.

Here you will see a bunch of carefully(?) crafted miniatures designed to show you that I don’t (do don’t do don’t do don’t do don’t) care about real life and real people. Got it?

What I can do is write. Not like Cheever, Fitzgerald, or O’Connor. I don’t actually care. Never did. But I have, what’s the word? Talent. Enjoy yourselves in the scrub brush of my trivia.

Some basics…

V1: What’s a vignette? Prose but not a story except by accident. Think of it as just a look at some thing or some one in particular.

V2: What are verses? In the poetry family but not as ambitious or serious. Like a slightly disreputable cousin. Still made of lines rather than sentences though. And, no, they don’t always rhyme, like uncles and cousins don’t always get drunk the same way at Thanksgiving dinner.

V3: What are vagaries. Things that pop into an old man’s head out of the blue. Opinions, theories, beefs, likes and dislikes, pronouncements, and pointless rambling usually cut short, mercifully, by some twinge or other of the agèd body. Often nonsequiturs.

Everybody clear? Good.