"You unfriended me." "No I didn't." "You did. We were Facebook friends and now we're not." We're still friends. We were always friends. Facebook friends aren't friends. They are connections. They are the people you can spam when you have no real friends to whine at....
We don’t call it Trade Center Day. Or the Twin Tower Attack. Or the al-Qaeda Massacre. (Probably not that one because we wouldn’t know which massacre.) We obliquely refer to it as "The Events of September 11." It isn’t even “events” unless you count each plane...
The sights and smells of summer in Omaha have returned like sandhill cranes to fill my Midwestern senses and comfort me that life does go on. A daisy-yellow backhoe, it's lanky arm moving with a flamingo's grace, picks up fat chunks of my street and feeds them into...
The Kindle edition of Are You Going To Eat That? just came out today! Anyone want to help me by posting a review?
Cat litter now clumps. Whereas old clay litter just absorbed cat pee until it couldn't hold any more, at which point you waited another two weeks avoiding the foul cleaning task until your eyes watered from the ammonia, clumping litter gets changed a little at a time....
Recipes used to be simpler: 1. Hit pigeon with rock 2. Pull off feathers 3. Hold over fire until inside temperature reaches ow. The feather touch? That was added after some trial and error. Next came the invention of tools. Cave-man cooks, sensitive...
The last time I rollerskated was in 1975. I fell a lot. A fat kid ran over my finger. Everyone seemed cooler than me, some spinning tricks in the center of the circle like Peggy Fleming with sledgehammer shoes. So when a gang of friends invited me to join them at...
Happy Pink Day. Pink Day is not on the calendar. It is dependent entirely on the weather. The first sunny, warm day in spring, after the snow has melted and grass starts prying itself up from being smashed face down in the mud, is Pink Day. Tree branches swell with...
My stairs are squeaky. When you walk up or down them, it sounds like an army of marching ducks. I don't notice the sound. The house I grew up in had squeaky stairs too. I suppose it kept me from sneaking out at night, though I never had anyhwere to go. I awoke with a...
The first thing I noticed about the opera was that the entire theater staff was smiling. From the elderly doorman in his smart braided jacket that he might have inherited from Michael Jackson, to the ticket takers grinning as if they had daughters to pawn off, big...