Larry Kandarian, 70, looks like an old-school farmer.
His tanned hands are weathered and creased, like well-worn leather.
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Just a real flesh-and-blood writer with more than a dozen years of freelance copywriting experience.
Just a real flesh-and-blood writer with more than a dozen years of freelance copywriting experience.
Larry Kandarian, 70, looks like an old-school farmer.
His tanned hands are weathered and creased, like well-worn leather.
Like the crash of surf onto sand, Neal Maloney remembers the exact moment his calling hit him.
“When you get to be 91, sweetheart—you tend to lose some strength,” Dr. Lou Tedone said, his voice tinged with good humor and the whisper of a Brooklyn accent.
About 120 people flocked to the 100-year-old barn for the venue’s second show. Some of them lounged on couches and chairs while others perched on wooden benches repurposed from old feeding troughs.