Waldo Tomosky by Wally

Wally’s many talents become evident as you read on, a 78 yo gentleman with books available on Amazon. He considers himself fortunate to enjoy good health and still takes one class a semester at the state university of NY. Wally writes about philosophy, anthropology and has great interest in the gruesome – real life murders where he discloses information relatives were unaware of and his latest series about Genghis Khan from Mongolia. Feature photo was taken in the Adirondack Mountains, NY … where one blog is set


In his words “No common thread binds my work together. This should shame me, but it does not.” [I think it makes it much more interesting to be so eclectic!]

Wally can you tell us a bit about your life, work and blogging?

Please allow me to make a few statements about my youth and later life. They may seem irrelevant at this moment however the picture will become clear very quickly.

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At 18 years of age with life beckoning

As a young boy I spent my time on the riverbanks and in gravel pits. I was attracted to any unique stone that I spied. I am not speaking of pretty or brilliant stones. I speak of stones that are different from most. Some had spots, others where layered in various colours, a few had a depth of history and they all appeared to gain in their attributes when sprinkled with water.

I have worked as a labourer, tool and die maker, programmer, educator and system analyst. My favourite locations are the Adirondack Mountains, Puerto Rico and Germany. I have two favourite rivers – one of my youth and another when I matured.

I closed out my life of labour as a licensed amateur paleontologist, a shovel bum working in an archaeology department and a delivery driver for a four county library system in upstate New York.

As an adult I continued being attracted to the unique. These were not the stones of my youth. These were unique personalities and events. They had depth, breadth, integrity and appeared to gain in their attributes when sprinkled with fiction. My mind, unconsciously, collected them.

I placed these tales on the windowsill next to my prized stones. Nothing happened to the stones. The tales, however, appeared to combine and change. Some became laced with horror, others with philosophy. What surprised me were those that I became emotionally involved in. As a labourer I could not foresee literary fiction or essay writing. And how was I to know that there were two faces of religion? Was this my deepest burden?

No. My deepest burden was to know that I would start out a sentence with the word “and.” This did not keep me from writing in the manner that I wished, despite all the advice that I was tortured with. I believe my style and the unique way that I look upon life will bring you to tears of laughter, joy, sorrow and wonderment; most of it basted in allusion and eerieness.

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Mimicking Hannibal Lecture, a taste of his wicked SOH!

Which posts would you recommend from your blog?

A very moving reflection about Wally’s wife as he cared for her through eight years of Alzheimer’s, she died a year ago this week so please be gentle.

Wally’s favourite poem and one of my favourites from his blog.  He very clever with words and both are humorous!

Added: A few weeks have passed and Wally has finally shared his other blog sites with me … he is such a gifted and frankly hilarious writer they are well worth a visit!


Please remember that italics are my words, Kate the interviewer.  


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