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31 December 2006

The last day of the year. And befuddled by a fit of new year practicality, I have placed an Amazon donation link on this site. Please don't be alarmed. That business about "Amazon Honor System" is in tiny print, but it's still bothersosme. Veritas: Any Day Now is free, no payment is required or expected, forever gratis and please enjoy. It was a fit, an acute mal-arrangement of neurons, I tell you, that practicality business, and will soon, I'm sure, pass. I chose the Amazon (Yikes!) Honor System arrangement because it's simpler than the PayPal donation arrangement. That's the truth of the matter. Veritas: Any Day Now! Free forever! Let's all hum.

And Happy New Year!

29 December 2006

Catherine Roberts Leach is my wife and Catherine Roberts Leach is a photographer. Her work can be found here. You'll see. I dedicate this issue to her.

See you in January 2007. Happy New Year!

22 December 2006

While I whine about holiday traffic on Ventura Boulevard, my friends near Seattle have been without power for over one week now. Think good thoughts for Richard and Anne and their crew. (Richard is the fella on the tractor below somewhere.)

15 December 2006

A twenty-fifth anniversary deserves luxury. Doesn't it? Tell me that it does. Catherine deserves it certainly. (Can you imagine? Twenty-five years.) Santa Barbara. The Simpson House, Ca' Dario. Wonderful. Twenty-five years. Thank you, Catherine.


24 November 2006

Dear friends we are vacating these premises for the next two weeks. The next issue will be the issue of 15 December. This is a planned vacation, an annual affair. Two weeks in September and two weeks in December. Catherine and I will be celebrating our twenty-fifth anniversary. See you mid-December.

17 November 2006

The incoming (incoming!) majorty leader of the senate, Senator Harry Reid of Nevada, has a condo at the Ritz-Carlton in Las Vegas.

10 November 2006

The piece that I pulled has now been revised and connected to its illustration. "Unseemly Actions: (Reciprocity)."

That Hollywood party that I was so snippy about last week was a low-key and low-light affair. (Older Hollywood folk don't like bright lights.) I drank expensive water and had a good time watching people. The hors d' oeurvres were excellent. I didn't wear a tie.

5 November 2006

I attached two-thousand words to a photographic work and then decided that I didn't like them. They were removed early Sunday morning. What remains is the captioned third part of a photographic series.

3 November 2006

Catherine and I are going to a party tonight at the Chateau Marmont in Hollywood. I have lived out here for over forty years and have never been to the Chateau. I have one tie, the one given to me at my 50th reunion; I'm thinking of wearing it.

What will I do about booze? Parties make me nervous and when I'm nervous…But I no longer drink and drive; I don't drink one glass of wine and drive. So I won't drink. I'll find a mirror, take a number, and when it's my turn I'll stand there admiring myself, wearing my McCallie tie, until there's a clamor and I have to move. Next!

27October 2006

My brother Brad has scanned and sent many family photos in the last few weeks. My thanks to him for his work.

Ten years ago I wouldn't have been moved by the photos of my family that have been published in the last two issues but now I am. Strange.

20 October 2006

No entry was made here on Thursday, 19 October 2006, but I revised my recent cat piece, "Worthy of Cats." It happens; I had published it before it was ready. But at 2 AM on Thursday morning I awoke and knew how it should be changed. Cats can be difficult.

13 October 2006

One of my dear friends called this page a blog the other day. "Blog" is a loathsome word, one of the ugliest words I've ever heard. If the International Committee For Determining What Things Are To Be Called met and deemed my website, my journal, a "blog" I would walk into traffic on Ventura Boulevard.

If you love me or what you see here, please don't call it a b***. Besides, as I understand it, b****s do other things, posty thing. Thank you.

8 October 2006

The Copy Editor, the Writer-In-Chief and I have done some work on the cover. We wanted to make "A Weekly Journal" and the publication date more apparent. There has been some confusion—noises have been heard abroad in the land—about how frequently our Weekly Journal is published.

It's weekly; every seven days. We vacate our desks for four weeks a year, two in September and two in December. The rest of the year we publish weekly. A Weekly Journal. And remember that at Veritas: Any Day Now, "We care; we really care. Don't tell us, by God, that we don't care."

6 October 2006

Driving back from Chattanooga I was listening to the radio, and from Arab, Alabama—and "Arab" is pronounced A-rab, long "A"—I heard a gospel music program with music by Ralph Stanley and others. In fifteen minutes of air time I heard two songs and many, let me hear you say it, many commercials. "Get on down to Betty's Bakery and tell 'em we sent you." "Go on over to Ray's Linoleum, and tell 'em we sent you. And now let's listen to Ralph Stanley and the Green Mountain Boys." Amen.

24 September 2006

Two days after the piece was published, I continue to worry and revise "Gold Slippers." It' s the matter of Christianity and homelessness that has me up at night. My understanding is that there are those in our country who would like to call the United States a Christian nation. I would challenge those good people to get out of their cars and walk their city's streets and see what they find there in the way of desperate people living out of shopping carts and sleeping on sidewalks, and to then go home and read Matthew 25, 35-40, the verses that end, "the least of these, my brethren…." When the shame of homelessness in the United States is truly addressed by this nation's Christians, they may then start their "Christian nation" chant again. And only then.

22 September 2006

I'm going to my class reunion next week so there will be no issue published on the 29th of September. Please think good thoughts. I hope to limit my alcohol consumption to modest excess. Think good thoughts, please.

15 September 2006

The chief writer, the copy editor and I did some work on the cover during our week off. And then this week the chief writer had his teeth cleaned. I would rather have dental work done on my own teeth than to put the chief writer in his carrier and hear him yowl.

1 September 2006

The photo on the cover is by my friend Robert Royal. On 18 August 2006 I used another of his photos—his middle daughter, Adeline and her cat Ogonek. This photo is of his oldest daughter, Marysia and a cat who is ignoring both beauty and dance. I love the photograph. [Can be seen here.]

Veritas: Any Day Now will not be published next week. The next issue will be the issue of 15 September. Marysia will see us through.

27 August 2006

I was wrong to say that my sister-in-law spells my grandmother's name "Bertha." In fact, what I read, on closer examination, on the back of the photo that she kindly provided, is "Berta Belton Brittain Leach" …1951." But I do not read "Birda." No, I do not. But it doesn't matter, for we all loved her.

25 August 2006

My sister-in-law Susan spells my grandmother's name, Bertha; but I think it's Birda because she was called Birdy.

The photograph on the cover was taken by my father; he was a photo hobbyist with the best camera of the day and powerful floodlights that he would set up in our living room, to the irritation of my mother. Brother Brooks doesn't seem pleased either.

18 August 2006

I sent an email notice regarding whatever it is that I do here to Robert Royal, an old friend from Gadsden, Alabama (my old hometown) who is now a professional photographer living in Spain. And he sent me a photograph. His daughter and her cat are in the photo on the cover. [Can now be found here.]

As a person who has lived in Hollywood for forty years I find that I have overused the word "wonderful." So I won't use it here to describe the photo of Adeline and her cat Ogonek, which I'm told means "little tail" in Polish.

Beautiful. A beautiful photograph of a lovely young woman and her… stately…dignified…extraordinary (!) cat. What use are words? Thank you, Bob.

11 August 2006

What's your pathology? Bi-polar? Paranoid? Borderline Personality Disorder? Or does a lack of funds prevent a fashionable diagnosis? I can't even afford to check myself into rehab.

4 August 2006

With all the back and forth of what Mel Gibson said and the "outrage" of the Hollywood community, wouldn't it be great if his driver license had been lifted? Drive impaired and your car is gone, impounded. One year. Focus groups in the heartland will dictate Hollywood morality, as usual. But wouldn't it be great if his wheels were history? Deputy Sheriff drove Mel to pick up his car. Outrageous.

29 July 2006

I've revised and published.

28 July 2006

Earlier today I updated the site with a piece that I wrote about my father. It's incomplete; I'm revising it and will publish it when it's complete.

21 July 2006

The writer-in-chief, the copy editor and I have redesigned the cover and made other design changes. And on Tuesday of this week one of us had a birthday and smoked a Cuban cigar. It was a very good cigar, and he'll smoke another one soon.

14 July 2006

Last night Alex made his way to a bookshelf in our living room. Catherine and I were eating dinner. He settled just above our dining room table and looked down at us, as if to say, "See I got up here just fine. I'm okay."

7 July 2006

Alex is doing well. He is limping but nothing like last week's limping. I've carried him around a bit and continue to apologize for my stupidity in leaving up a piece of apartment garbage that could be harmful to him. My other cat, Jimmie, would not consider such highjinks for fear of an injury that would keep him away from food.

30 June 2006

How in hell can a cat hurt himself in an apartment? And how in hell did I allow it to happen? Alex fell from a valence that he had decided to explore, above vertical blinds. The valence—because it's a piece of apartment building crap—broke and Alex fell. Sprained his leg. My fault. I should have taken the garbage valence down so that he couldn't climb out on it. Alex doesn't know that he's hurt so he continues to attempt everything that he did before, including jumping to the window in my office. That was a few minutes ago. I was concentrating on getting the page out and didn't see him come in. He's okay; I'm not.

23 June 2006

The photograph of the cats (plural, "cats") on the cover was taken by my oldest friend, Richard Lockmiller. [See Mouse Feather above, 12 January 2007, and on the True Cats page.]

Now as to the matter of that word "cats," there's a black cat on the stump next to the white cat. And even though he is right there, he is hard to see. As a matter of fact, Richard didn't even know that the black cat was there until he called the cats to dinner and the black cat jumped off the stump and came running.

Richard Lockmiller is my dear friend and I thank him for the wonderful photograph of his cats, plural. The photo was taken at his home near Seattle.



16 June 2006

Regarding "I Don't Know, Friend," a cooler man would not have written about something as emotional as reconciliation. Of course a cooler man would have not gone on so a few years back, run his mouth, made demands. I've mentioned it before, the continuum of inebriation, how with booze, just for a while, life is so good and everything is so clear and conversations are so warm and loving and then how everything goes to hell. So fast it's scary. With a wife, a friend. I'm sure that no one has ever mentioned that before.

10 June 2006

I wrote the "Spanish Phrases" piece out of a conversation I recently had with a person I have known for several years.

7 June 2006

We had promised an update yesterday. The publisher and the editorial staff regret that we broke our promise. Drunkenness was not involved even though it should have been. Life is better with booze even though booze isn't good for relationships or driving. (So stay away from relationships and driving.) The Greeks had it right. "Symposium" means drinking together.

As a cat lover, I believe in a Higher Purr.

But there is another AA and that's Alabamians Anonymous. I am a member, having been born in Gadsden, Alabama. I am ambivalent about that fact. I'm trying to write about my father now. Might kill me. Booze is of no help. An unexpected sadness obtains. I am now finally in mourning for a man who died eight years ago. Understanding is a bitch.

Did you know that there are good people in Alabama? No, really. I know of several. A few family members; they come in and out of focus. Guy named M.D. And the president of Birmingham-Southern College, David Pollick, philosopher, might be a good man. Yet to be determined. A man trained as a philosopher might be good for 'Southern. Might understand that Jesus and prayer meetings didn't stop some church burnings by students who were good ol' boys. Rich twit good ol' boys. Hunters. Washed in the blood. Oh, yeah. Roll crimson tide. Takes a thinker to put all that together. Hope he does. To hell with salvation. Bring back morality. Go Dave!

And there is more good news: Judge Roy Moore was not elected governor of Alabama. Remember him? Decalogue in the courthouse? Is the fact of Roy's non-election a harbinger of better things to come in Alabama? Not necessarily. Because there is still Alabama football. And an absurdly low per capita expenditure on education. Thanks to rich farmers who won't spend the money and who love 'Bama football. Roll Crimson Tide.

My first trip out of Dixie was to Northwestern University. I didn't graduate, but Chicago was a great introduction to life out of the south. Did you watch those young Northwestern women play softball recently? I just ordered a cap, says, "Northwestern Softball." Should arrive today. Go Purple! Color of Northwestern, color of the grape.

2 June 2006

Yes, I am the editor and the publisher. That's my picture above. Usually it's a great job—the limos, the women, the vodka. Wait a sec, that was another job. Still I love my current job—the job without the limos, the women, the vodka.

But I must tell you that there are days when, as editor and publisher, my mettle is tested. (That's my picture above.) And such a day was just today, when I had to tell a writer that his work didn't cut it and that all his long hours had been for nothing.

And it sure doesn't make it any easier when I am also the writer who was told. Rejection is rejection.

In other words, last night I looked at what I had written for this week's issue and said, in a word, "Yech." And then I said, "Ptooey." A cat moved briskly on that last one. But I'm strong, as you can tell from my picture above, and I am now working on a new piece, which I hope to have on the editor's wet bar by Tuesday. Oh, and yes, the publisher is a little out of sorts because he wants "lots of fresh stuff" each Friday, but he'll just have to wait. I'll have a word with him.

6 April 2006 — 2 June 2006

The first issue of Veritas-Any Day Now was published on 7 April 2006, but the Editor & Publisher did not think of writing his invaluable "Notes" until the issue of 2 June 2006. He regrets the egregious lapse. "Lacuna" would also be acceptable, albeit pretentious.


Notes Main Page

Editor & Publisher
Britt Leach

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