One of the best things about finishing grad school is getting to read for pleasure again. I recently finished one novel - “The Orphan Master’s Son” by Adam Johnson, and am currently about halfway through “All My Puny Sorrows” by Miriam Toews. My Facebook pal Chase recommended the Johnson book in the wake of the … Continue reading North Korea and Canada between covers: A pair of mini book reviews
We were standing in the living room of my sister’s house when my 16-year-old niece (who will never be smarter again in her life than she is now) said, “C’mon, tell me you wouldn’t want to be 16 again.” What I wanted to say was “*#^K NO!!!! ARE YOU CRAZY????” What I said, instead, was … Continue reading A high school high point and why now is better
So, yesterday I took Mom to the neurologist. She’s been having more of these spells where one minute she’s fine, and the next she’s crumpling up like a boneless doll. They’re not pretty. The nurse practitioner at the nursing home where she lives thought it might be the Parkinson’s disease progressing, so we moved her … Continue reading Travels with Mom: a trip to the Neurologist
When Debbie Friedman died four years ago, the whole Jewish world stood up and paid attention. I’d been paying attention to Debbie my whole life, because she was nine when I was born and our mothers are sisters. That first year after she died, pictures kept showing up on Facebook, synagogues were singing her songs … Continue reading Debbie Friedman, number eight of Bubby & Zaydie’s 15
So, it’s been a slightly dismal week here in Flyover Country. That bitter cold that used to live north of us and comes to visit more often is in town and I am unsuccessfully fighting off some sort of winter sinus-related pestilence. Also, my favorite clothing store is going out of business. And of course, there's France. … Continue reading Why France, journalists and the Iliad will always have a place in my kitchen
My father was very fond of books. Naturally, this is a point of pride for my sister and me. Dad read to us all the time when we were children. He instilled a love of books and writing that has outlived him by decades. He was also very fond of breasts. Large breasts. I hold … Continue reading My dad: the rabbi who loved large breasts
Six Decembers ago, Sweetheart & I moved. Along with our physical possessions, I was concerned about emotional baggage. Mine, not his. It was just shy of a month living here, New Year's Day in 2009, when I wrote this essay. Real Estate & Leather Sweetheart and I had just gotten the keys to our new house after … Continue reading Real Estate & Leather: A ‘Throwback Thursday’ post
I used to write poetry. It’s been a long time, but lately, I’ve had an urge to start again. So it was interesting timing that my Christmas present from Sweetheart’s father and his wife was a volume of Seamus Heaney’s poetry. There are massive holes in my literary education. Heaney was one of them, but thanks … Continue reading Kelly Cherry, poetry and Mr. Perfect from the Neck Down
Like most working people in the US, where Christian culture is majority culture, I’d been looking forward to a couple of days off at Christmas. It’s not my holiday. But I get to partake of its best parts because Sweetheart’s family is a mashup of Lutherans, atheists who grew up as Lutherans & Catholics-by-choice. Sweetheart … Continue reading ‘I’m not big on long goodbyes’ or Death at Christmas
Black man killed by white cop. It’s a scenario we’ve seen way too often this year in US cities. Here in Milwaukee, where I live, that story has a particularly sad and horrible twist. Dontre Hamilton was 31 when he died last April. I never met him, but his situation falls within my slice of Tikkun Olam Pie. … Continue reading Dontre Hamilton, Tikkun Olam Pie & why I don’t do demonstrations (with update)
the sentence factory 