You don’t have to be born French By most accounts, I look okay. My style, such as it is, mainly impresses the world with a mild, she’s nice. Yet I had been in Paris mere weeks when Madame de Glasse, the French neighbor with whom I am friendly, announced...
The original ski-dad shows how it’s done “It’s like I’m the dog,” says Dad in the back seat. “I never know what we’re going to do until we do it.” My sister is at the wheel and I’m riding shotgun as we pull off I-80 east outside Elko so the Flying J truck stop...
Mountains always remind you that you are not in charge Shasta! Oh Mount Shasta! What secrets do you hide What dwells within that heart of yours What Light does there abide?… What Knowledge do you guard so well From those who seek too bold?… Godfre Ray King...
His drink? Pernod. His smoke? Gauloises. His car? Peugeot. But his most peculiar passion is wooing. He is the legendary Lothario of l’amour and every woman wants one: the French lover. Sexier than a Spandex bikini. Able to leap into bed after a single kiss. He is...
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