Picasso and me.

Whenever Picasso would arrive in a town or city he hadn’t been to before he’d always go to the highest point – church steeple, bell tower, hilltop – to see how he was going to conquer it. Well, he wouldn’t have seen me anywhere near there if he arrived in Antibes in ‘85, because I was at the lowest point in town, face down on the pavement, euphemistically speaking, and my life. Or at least the lowest point in my life up until then – even though looking back on it now I can’t help but think that it wasn’t really low at all. At least not compared to where I’ve been since. But that’s another story.


Keith Richards: Some Sympathy for the Devil.

So it’s Saint Patrick’s day and my daughter Cate has been invited to an early afternoon party at her friend Isis’s house and even though she’s missed school that day I’ve decided to let her go for an hour or so just to say hello. At the last minute I threw on a bright green afro wig, just to be a spiv, and we drove over. The first person I see when I walk into the house, in the kitchen, large as life, surrounded by a bunch of beautiful women (where’d they come from?) was Keith Richards. I don’t have to tell you his face is one of the most recognized in the world, but it was weird to see it right there in real suburban mom birthday party life.

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The Oysterman Cometh.

When Jeff Northrop graduated from Columbia in 2009 with a Bachelor’s Degree in Economics and a minor in math, he started working at a hedge fund in New York City. Young, good-looking, liquid and single – what wasn’t to envy? But he wasn’t happy, so when his dad mentioned to him that he had recently found out the family owned the shellfish rights to the Mill Pond in Westport, CT and that maybe there was a business there, his ears perked up. Jeff did some research, a lot of research, and decided to try his hand at oyster farming. New York Oyster Co., which eventually became Hummock Island Shellfish, was born.