Tag Archives: Eric Robert Nolan

The Roanoke Times features my letter to the editor about rationalizing political violence.

I discovered this morning that The Roanoke Times published my latest letter to the editor; it appeared on November 21.  (This was my letter about drawing comparisons between the January 6th attack on the Capitol and protests by Black Lives Matter.)  

You can find it right here.

Thanks, as always, to the editorial staff of The Roanoke Times for the opportunity to share my point of view with my neighbors.

Throwback Thursday: these 1988 commercials for Carvel Ice Cream and Genovese!

I am linking here to the Youtube channel Hugo Faces, which is a treasure trove of 1980’s local television clips for Long Island and elsewhere.  That Carvel ad is as priceless as it is cheesy.

These aired on WCBS.

The Piker Press features “Her Smile Was Silver Jupiter”

I am so honored today that The Piker Press published my prose love poem, “Her Smile Was Silver Jupiter.”  You can find it at the link below.

Thanks, as always, to Managing Editor Sand Pilarski for allowing me to share my voice at The Piker Press!

“Her Smile Was Silver Jupiter”

I call it “The Duke’s Tavern.”

How’s this for a stroke of genius?  My latest kick is ordering large cheeseburgers from The Texas Tavern (without the relish and mustard), and then adding Duke’s Mayonnaise at home.

I AM A CONNISEUR.   (Or a connoisseur.  I can never spell that word on the first try.)

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People say I’m ghetto because of the soup I eat.

Man, the abuse I am getting on Facebook for posting this quick and tasty snack.  It’s mild Italian sausage, diced and added to some good ol’ Ramen noodles.

Hey, it works for me.

My friends actually have a loooooong history of disapproving of my culinary choices.  As always, that just means there’s more for me.

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I wrote this a few years ago. I’m still thankful today. :-)

“A Roanoke Thanksgiving”

I am thankful for
fine friends, gracious neighbors, and presently forgotten adversaries,
the smell of smoke outside, its rich and deep and ageless burning notes that sound upon the palette,
the hills under all my days, which pluck up my breath,
all the countless “hellos” their slopes will yield,
the mountains’ incandescence in this cooling season,
the colors now igniting their high and wooded perches,
this new home, this Old South,
this ranging, easy vale of firming winds and firm tradition,
its gentle people, and their surprising hearts —
this fair, far Star City.

~ Eric Robert Nolan, Thanksgiving 2019