Honestly, it is all rather dismal around here with no snow in sight. I do love a good snow. Mr. Cassette has said it will possibly never snow again, which bothers me greatly, and to give up my Snow Pining. He trails off, knowing not to be too
-
-
If I told you there was a small neighborhood in Downtown Omaha that had the look and feel of a 1920s or 1930s movie set, would you catch a dimbox over there as quickly as you could just to get a gander? Because there is such a strange, thrilling
-
There was never an afternoon that I didn’t look forward to a trip to Downtown Omaha with my grandmother. I felt like I was going back in time. She would get dressed up and expected that I would dress up as well. It seemed that all of the older
-
Omaha friends, I’ve been hoping that you’d drop in. Your hands are like ice. It’s bad out there. No cabs to be had out there, as they say in a favorite holiday song. Might I recommend you just hunker down and stay a while? We are in good
-
If you did not know it or maybe, if you were deep in thought (or woefully of the unobservant type), you might have never seen or even heard tell of the Jones Street footbridge through the foliage of Elmwood Park. It is now formally called the
-
I remember fake falling asleep in the backseat of my family’s car, driving home after special nights in Downtown Omaha. Father of Miss Cassette had a number of favored routes that would return us to our home in Benson but his chosen path
-
Had one been in the habit of making squealing sounds of delight, this would have been an occasion for doing so. It all began when I opened an email from Sherri Moore, Director of Events for Joslyn Castle, asking for a bit of assistance with the
-
I was at the downtown W. Dale Clark Library many months ago when I first came upon her name. I was deep in research, working a case, looking to put the finger on some gin mill or grifter long before my time. Gunnin’ for a piece of evidence
-
There was always so much to see from the backseat of my parents’ automobile. I particularly loved the long, seemingly, tangled journey from Benson to any fine restaurant downtown and back again in the black of night. Like a tour of the exotic
-
Simply the best advertisement in all of Omaha. February 27, 1927. The electric sink, which sounds dangerous to my ears, was “waiting now to do the dishes for you three times a day every day–as long as you live.” Mr. Cassette