I remember the time I stuck my finger in an empty but live Christmas light socket. It was December 1971 and I was five years old. From the couch in the front room of our old house on North 7th Street, I sat in my little flannel nightgown, mesmerized by the glowing electric candle trios…
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My Life on the Middle-Age B-List
We all remember the popular crowd in high school. They were the fortunate ones with just the right amount of athleticism, good looks, fashion sense or coolness to gain them a coveted spot in an elite group of teenagers to whom life seemed to come easily. The rest of us could only look on helplessly,…
Modern Inconveniences — Part I: I hate lima beans
“Who threw lima beans in the back of the cabinet?” my mother yelled from the tiny breakfast nook off our kitchen. I’d been caught again. At least this time it wasn’t meatloaf. She was really mad about that. But our table, a typical 70s set with faux wood top and groovy brown and gold daisy-patterned…
The Agony of Dieting Defeat
One week of Lent and I’m already spent. It seems like just yesterday I was struggling with my New Years diet, then I was stuffing super bowl food in my face, followed by the obligatory splurge of Fat Tuesday, and now I’m expected to deprive myself of some desirable food item until Easter, when I…
What I believe about Hell and hand baskets