Pausing to reflect on winter
I sat in my home office here on the Main Line and watched the flakes falling from the sky during the recent storm and was inspired to write the following:
Very quiet
Not a sound
A white blanket
Across
I sat in my home office here on the Main Line and watched the flakes falling from the sky during the recent storm and was inspired to write the following:
Very quiet
Not a sound
A white blanket
Across
COLUMN WRITTEN BY PHILLIP SILVERSTONE
For Digital First Media
“This is Major Tom to Ground Control
I’m stepping through the door
And I’m floating in a most peculiar way
And the stars look
COLUMN WRITTEN BY PHILLIP SILVERSTONE
For Digital First Media
“The loveliness of Paris seems somehow sadly gray
The glory that was Rome is of another day
I’ve been terribly alone and forgotten
COMMENTARY BY PHILLIP SILVERSTONE
“We will be bold to say there is scarcely a man in the constant habit of walking, day after day, through any of the crowded thoroughfares of town, who cannot recollect,
COLUMN WRITTEN BY PHIL SILVERSTONE
For Digital First Media
Opinion is, of course, subjective. I remember the great British astronomer Patrick Moore was once asked whether he believed intelligent life
[caption id="attachment_10931" align="alignleft" width="300"] PHOTO BY AMY RODGERSLyn Philistine and Christopher Sutton, shown with their son Dylan, star in A Christmas Story at Walnut Street Theatre
COLUMN WRITTEN BY PHILLIP SILVERSTONE
For Digital First Media
It’s week 2 of my holiday wine recommendations and as promised last week — when I listed the whites — this week I’ll share my favorite
COLUMN WRITTEN BY PHILLIP SILVERSTONE
For Digital First Media
You may have noticed my absence the past couple of weeks. That’s due to my travels on the Left Coast recording 3 upcoming TuneIn Radio
COLUMN WRITTEN BY PHILLIP SILVERSTONE
You may have noticed my absence the past couple of weeks. That’s due to my travels on the Left Coast recording 3 upcoming TuneIn Radio shows from Redding, located
COLUMN WRITTEN BY PHILLIP SILVERSTONE
This column is one of the last bastions of my former life. The one in which I was quaffing wine from sunrise to sunset all in the pretense of being a professional