I’ve been asked to write about my mother, CeeCee. She was born February 28, 1928, and she died October 13, 2013. CeeCee was a mystery. She and I never got along, but it was due to a secret she carried. I discovered it after she died. It wasn’t written down anywhere; it’s just that I’m…
Some perspective from a Third Worlder
December 5, 2014
I like living in the United States. It’s a great privilege. However, too many of my fellow Americans are idiots. The current fad is to march and protest because police kill black men. No other people count, which proves that the marchers and protestors are acting in bad faith. They don’t actually care about police…
Down the Orinoco with my father
June 4, 2014
My father Edward Wictor was a complete stranger. Since his death on February 23, 2013, he’s become even more of a mystery. Dad wrote three unpublished memoirs that are nearly impossible to read. Like the film Pulp Fiction, they don’t follow a chronological narrative. Instead, they jump around in time and place, they contain almost…
You won’t like living in the Third World
March 18, 2014
I was born in Venezuela and lived there until I was ten. Venezuela was and is a Third World nation. A significant percentage of our fellow citizens want us to be a Third World nation. You won’t like it. This photo was taken in Caripito on March 25, 1966. I’m in the hard hat, Tim…