http://www.isnare.com/?s=author&a=Herbert+Lobsenz Writing Herbert Lobsenz Sun, 25 May 2008 00:00:00 +0800 http://www.isnare.com/?aid=256102&ca=Writing Between the twenty story buildings on Riverside Drive and West End Avenue, 88th street was lined with five story brownstones - most of them single family homes. The street in front of the houses was lined with sycamore trees protected by five foot high protectors made of vertical iron staves held to... Writing Herbert Lobsenz Sat, 17 May 2008 00:00:00 +0800 http://www.isnare.com/?aid=254131&ca=Writing Lucky Strike Green had come home from the War, as had Dubble Bubble gum and the pink Spaldeen — though at ten cents now instead of a nickel. But there weren't many new cars yet, so there was still plenty of room for street games. Marbles had its short season. In fall and winter we played roller hock... Writing Herbert Lobsenz Sat, 17 May 2008 00:00:00 +0800 http://www.isnare.com/?aid=253882&ca=Writing One day Barry Bogardus picked up a broken marble someone left lying on the street, went round the corner to West End and put it up against the curbstone. "A hundred if you hit it!" he called out. That got everyone's attention. West End was twice the width of 88th so the true amount should have been... Writing Herbert Lobsenz Sun, 04 May 2008 00:00:00 +0800 http://www.isnare.com/?aid=250205&ca=Writing Nobody set the day it started, but the Saturday after Halloween we dug last year's cigar box-full out of the bottom of a closet or ran up to Woolworth's and bought new ones at a nickel per red mesh bag of twenty plus a 'boulder' and raced over to 88th and West End for the opening of Marble Season. W... Writing Herbert Lobsenz Sun, 04 May 2008 00:00:00 +0800 http://www.isnare.com/?aid=250452&ca=Writing A new guy by the name of Barry Bogardus had moved into the neighborhood and he and his friend Kenny Nails would come round, hands in the pockets of their camel's hair overcoats, sneering at us and making fun of the way we looked or dressed. They were especially critical of Cedric. "Tell your shoes t... Writing Herbert Lobsenz Sun, 27 Apr 2008 00:00:00 +0800 http://www.isnare.com/?aid=247657&ca=Writing What started me writing was watching things disappear. The flowers on the dining table disappeared fast; the rubber plant on the radiator cover, more slowly. The gaunt woman in the black bonnet and black dress down to her ankles who came every Wednesday, ate one boiled egg, one boiled potato, and wa...