Out of Mind and Into the Heart With Kirtan King Krishna Das
Bill Eville

Have you ever thought about your thoughts? Not in the generic sense as in, wow I can't believe I had such a lustful thought, ugly thought, pathetically mundane or masterfully intelligent thought. That's kid stuff. A dime a dozen. How about going deeper into the thought machine itself and its continuous letting loose of one after another, after another new idea or impulse, ad nausea. It's a busy factory up there, the mind churning and burning with rapid-fire suggestions, reactions, negations and desires. So exhausting, but what can one do?

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Davy Crockett’s Spirit at Sengie As Black Powder Shooters Fire Up
Bill Eville

The first rut was late this year. Perhaps it was the warm weather or just the vagaries of love. But it doesn't really matter why. What matters is that the second rut has begun.

What a second rut means for the deer is that the does are in heat again, the ones that didn’t find a mate the first time around or the young does who weren't ready yet last month.

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Commercial Real Estate to Critical Acclaim: This Kid Is All Right
Bill Eville

The pitch is the first step in an often very long process of making a movie. It’s what gets the money people to open, or close, their wallets. Sometimes it's a big concept. An asteroid is about to smash into the earth and only Bruce Willis can save us. Other times, wild comparisons are evoked to assure its marketability. It's Terminator meets Harry Met Sally with a side of Toy Story. In any case, the idea is to go big and dramatic in just a few sentences because that's all the time a writer has to convince a producer the project has merit.

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Love Affair of the Local Kind, Trio Hits Road With New CD
Bill Eville

It’s quiet out there, at night on the Island this time of year. In town there are a few signs of life. But on the back streets, after the sun goes down and the winter chill takes over, mostly it’s just smoke from a woodstove or a startled rabbit or nothing at all. But looks can be deceiving.

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So Much Life Amid Talk of Loss Shows Just What Hospice Does
Bill Eville

T he paper assigned me to cover the summer benefit for Hospice of Martha’s Vineyard, billed as the Summer Soiree. I had my notebook and pen at the ready, determined to do a good job reporting on the events of the evening. It was a beautiful night out at Farm Neck Golf Club. The tents were packed, the food delicious, and the silent and live auctions aggressive.

I sat down at my table and spoke to the woman next to me. Her name was Margaret Oliveira and she was there because hospice had helped with her mother.

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Wearing the Pants, Or Coat, Not an Easy Fit
Bill Eville

My son Hardy and I have been fighting about clothes. It is December and the weather has turned much colder but he refuses to wear anything warm. He likes his short-sleeved shirts and thin pants. Winter coats are bulky and feel “horrible.” Hardy recently turned six. Horrible and gross are his two favorite words.

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Wreath Ladies’ Tradition Remains Rooted in Beauty and Friendship
Bill Eville

A row of decorated wreaths rests along the front pew of the West Tisbury Congregational Church. There are wreaths with red bows and holly leaves, pine cones and delicate juniper berries. A few feature small, felt cardinals peeking out from amongst the greens. There is also a homemade boxwood wreath with no trappings other than nature’s varied shadings of light and dark green. It glistens next to a faded blue Pilgrim hymnal. And then there are three wreaths at the end of the pew adorned with orange slices.

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Revealing Mythic Led Zeppelin Tour With Salvaged Notes and Perspective
Bill Eville

In 1985 the rock journalist Stephen Davis wrote a book about Led Zeppelin called Hammer of the Gods. Mr. Davis traveled with the band during their 1975 Physical Graffiti tour and witnessed the band members up close at what many say was the height of their creative powers. The book became a New York Times bestseller. The band hated it.

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A Father’s Walk on the Blind Side
Bill Eville

It was a beautiful fall evening on the Island and I was taking an after-dinner stroll with my children. My six-year-old son, Hardy, crashed about in the woods. My daughter, Pickle, not her real name but definitely her given name, walked a few yards in front of me.

Pickle is two and a half and becoming now a small creature of the world rather than just something of my own. She walked in front of me, not even looking back to see if I were following. I felt a tug at my heart.

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A Rolling Stone Gathers No Mozzarella
Bill Eville

The Flatbread Pizza Company opened its doors on the Vineyard on July 3. That was just about four months ago. Somehow, in this short span of time, Flatbread has nestled into the community and grown deep roots. To use local terms, it doesn’t feel like a day-tripper, scattered and a bit crazed with the need to do everything for everyone in a matter of hours. Nor does it feel like a summer dink, yet another vacationer, a little more grounded perhaps but still captive to the roving eye. This is my vacation, by God, and I will have fun at all costs!

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