Author Archives: Scott Foglesong

As I turn officially 62, I consider my state of mind just one year ago. As age 61 dawned, I lived in the grip of a persistent unease, a dissatisfaction that ran as broad as it was deep. I was … Continue reading →

No doubt it’s just another of those getting-older things. The pastimes of youth fall by the wayside as we trek along; what once seemed chic now seems blah, what once was a must-do is now a yeah-maybe. The sage who … Continue reading →

Just about anybody with an abiding interest in science fiction has wondered if Arthur C. Clarke’s seminal 1953 novel “Childhood’s End” would ever see the screen. One might have thought that the piece has become too dated by now, but … Continue reading →

Blips of hot bacon grease zinged my left elbow before it dawned on me: just move farther away from the cook top. Hell, move to the other counter. Move to the other counter. Gott in Himmel, what a concept. The … Continue reading →

The appalling situation on the sidewalks of San Francisco has always bothered me, but never more so than now when I am no longer a resident of the city. In my current incarnation in a prosperous, clean, safe, and far-outlying … Continue reading →

Recently I read an article about the correlation, if any, between trained musicians’s ears and sensitivity to random noise. The study concluded that musicians aren’t any more bothered by environmental noise than anybody else, at least based on the statistics. … Continue reading →

The reasons for home ownership are many and compelling. Investment: excellent. Security: you’re immune from rent hikes or capricious landlordish dictats. Flexibility: you can have it your way without having to ask anybody’s permission. Depth: your roots dig deeper and … Continue reading →

Of late I’ve been inveighing about the many inconveniences, difficulties, and upsets of living in San Francisco. Now that I’m on the threshold of moving to Far Outerburbia and becoming a three-times-a-week commuter into SF, it would be churlish of … Continue reading →

Today I took my Camry to the gas station. Time for a fill-up. As usual, the pump asked me to put in my zip code, as a way of ensuring that I am the real McCoy and not some despicable … Continue reading →

Early in my senior year in high school my father and I had a brief but critically important conversation. With auditions at various conservatories scheduled and impending, he asked me straight up if a life in music was what I … Continue reading →