Within the Negative 16%
From me to my first love is 36 years, a war, six children, four marriages, and 2,359 miles—give or take—though the space he consumed in my heart neared 22%, leaving 29.3% per each son and little left for me.
Between my pen and me lives a lunge, a gasp, a tangle. Like yesterday when I’d strolled into the gas station, rain monsooning, my car parked
The Day My Dad Stopped Doing the NYT Spelling Bee
“One more word to go!” I message to my father. Today, I’ve stormed past Amazing straight to Genius, but am stuck with one last word, trying to reach Queen Bee. I await my dad’s reply, knowing he’ll have the perfect hint. A few minutes later, it arrives. “Sorry, I’m not doing it anymore.”
My Transitional Trek
How Two Months On a Bike Helped Me Embrace My Third Act
I stand on the sidewalk outside of an Upper West Side hotel, where a friend has gifted us with a two-night stay. It’s a Monday in early June and a morning flow of New Yorkers hurries by, young and old heading back to school and work, their faces serious. Savor this moment, I tell myself. You get to
The “L” Word
Could I ever say it again?
It just happened in February…the day that single people of all ages love to hate.
Valentine’s Day. The day when everywhere I look, I see smiling guys holding fistfuls of scarlet roses, or scanning the shelves for the perfect romantic cards featuring glittery sentiments or picking up giant heart-shaped boxes wrapped in cellophane and filled with
The Anthropologist in the Family
How NOT Being Like My Parents Has Led to a Regret-Free Life
After seeing a twenty-foot Christ while on LSD, my father converted from Judaism to Christianity as part of the Jesus revolution happening on Haight-Ashberry in the seventies. He went to a Bible conference and while being filled with the Holy Spirit and dancing; met a woman whose kiss was “electric with demonic energy.” Friends, he married her.