Suprise Me

I have learned that all “tweens” go through tough adolescent years; it seems to be a universal truth. Mine seemed particularly brutal, as we moved from Detroit to a near-suburb, I skipped a grade at this crucial period, the new girls were far more sophisticated and I had a particularly ugly adolescence with buck teeth,… Read More

A picture is worth a thousand words... unless it isn't. Read More

I didn’t much give a damn for wearing glasses. Read More

Hillary, I get you. I was you. Sadly, as my mother often advised me, it’s nice to be smart but be quiet about it. Read More

I was in the high school class of 1968, indelibly stamped. When that year was still the future, it represented that border between childhood dependency and my real life, whatever that might mean.  I had known nothing but childhood, but I felt ready for things to turn.  Read More

We know your passion for trucks, and so / We come to the park bearing trucks. Read More

Two department stores. All sorts of other downtown fixtures – jewelers, women’s fashion, men’s stores, Army-Navy, hobby shops, and a Woolworth’s. Read More

Is this retirement? I ask. Nah. Read More

My partner, Dina’s mother Barbara, was going out with her for support, and Dina needed someone to look after her pup, whom she called “Monkey”. I told her to forget about boarding, especially because Monkey had been a shelter pup, and volunteered to look after him at our house. Read More

1963, the year I started college, was a rather schizophrenic time for women. There were glimmerings of feminism and social activism, but a lot of the old expectations for women lived side-by-side with these new ideas. Read More