Few if any breakfasts equal those I’ve consumed at Coleen’s Kitchen
By Bill Kauffman
Greenville’s favorite son is the poetically tragic Shoeless Joe Jackson, the illiterate millhand whom Babe Ruth called ‘the greatest hitter I had ever seen’
By Bill Kauffman
The mural painted on my envisioned Thelonious Monk Alley would feature images of little Thelonious in his fireman’s cap, surrounded by firemen, and the adult Thelonious at the piano
By Bill Kauffman
A circuit that was born in Batavia in 1939 died in Manhattan’s oppressive Time-Life Building
By Bill Kauffman
To read is to invite derision, especially if you grew up in a working-class town
By Bill Kauffman
Should the state of New York be divided into two states?
By Bill Kauffman
If the stars of the generation then passing burned less brightly in the firmament, well, then it was up to me to illuminate them
By Bill Kauffman
Batavia, New York A staticky nimbus surrounds Mexican radio and the legendary border stations that kinda came through on 1970s transistors across the American Southwest, but what about the experience of those of us in the frozen North, along the Canadian border, who grew up listening to Canuck pop-rock, to lugubrious Leonard Cohen or the icy new wave of Martha and […]
By Bill Kauffman
The 19th Amendment is a matter of Upstate New York regional pride
By Bill Kauffman
A school, whether consisting of one room or 20 rooms, ought to embody and reinforce a sense of place
By Bill Kauffman
‘To-day the doctor says I must die — all is over with me — ah, so young to die’
By Bill Kauffman
No one who eats food or laughs at jokes should be without his new book
By Bill Kauffman
Shrink state power so radically that policy disagreements would be akin to flyweight arguments over the merits of Coke vs Pepsi
By Bill Kauffman
The late great American astronomer Leslie Peltier was onto something
By Bill Kauffman
We will learn once more that ’tis better to be a flower-seeker than a power-seeker
By Bill Kauffman
