Dean Weissmann presents

John Elway sent me to the Pro Bowl

John Elway sent me to the Pro Bowl. Guess who is my favorite all-time NFL player. The Pro Bowl generally is a laid-back affair, past and future, played for most of its years at Aloha Stadium. It features special rules such as no blitzing, no zone defenses, no trick offensive formations. The 2020 Pro Bowl is 12 p.m., Sunday, Jan. 26 at Orlando’s Camping World Stadium for the…


Don’t be a Trump, be a Nancy; and a social media tale: Grading San Marcos trailer parks

Baseball season has ended, my baseball season anyway since all I live for is watching multiple Major League Baseball games on numerous devices and screens. They call it the post-season for a reason. OK. While watching baseball games, I also dedicate a screen to scream at cable news while reading computer stuff about dotard and his disgusting criminal traitor regime. Not to get too far…


Introduction to Herb Caen’s three-dot lounge

Anything following an ellipsis is a friend of mine for the night. It’s code for ‘you didn’t hear it from me, but. … ‘” —  Mark Pargas, “A Visit to the Three-Dot Lounge” It’s been over 20 years since famed San Francisco journalist Herb Caen (1916-1997) died. For journalists and San Franciscans, Caen was a superstar. Known as “Mr. San Francisco,” his columns were a…


‘Mr. Sherman’ from Surveillance Pelicana

(Editor’s Note: I plan on publishing my creative writing on a regular basis at The Grapevine as a “public” service, and also to acquaint readers with my accumulated writings that have not seen the light of day. These will be posted under the names of dweissmann or Dean Weissmann for clarity’s sake. Enjoy!) Act begins stage right. A bell rang signifying a change of school…


Poems and stories found in a box

    1. COME, THE REVOLUTION   Juan was at The winter solstice. But so was everyone. His last name Didn’t catch, Anonymously equal Under a setting sun.   Light comes from Many directions. Juanita from her skew line. Pablo across his fault-line Falling, falling, falling Towards wide white lines Covering ice-cream earth.   Fernando Real Knows nothing is real If you don’t feel It…