• Take My Wife…Please

    My dad was a mild-tempered man. He made Jimmy Carter look like a rowdy spitfire. In fact, I only remember my father snapping or lashing out on the rarest of occasions during my childhood. I remember him getting upset one time when his three monkey children were blowing really big, loud bubbles in their glasses

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  • Shove Me to Snivel

    Ever since I had kids, and my head got full of other voices, I tend to figure things out when I’m running. During the hour or so a day when I’m alone, when my body’s motion is overcoming my Fatigue of Brain, thoughts gel. As feet turn over, I think forward. It’s actually become a

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  • Real Cool

    If you crave a getaway right now, click on these, and I’ll take you to the beach: Then we drove up the road to warmer waters: I can’t believe a kid of mine refused to put her head under a waterfall due to moss. What a pansyarse:

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  • Seems I’m the Type That Was Heard on High…or, In Your Case, Read While High

    A few weeks ago, after two terms in my English classes (both writing and literature), a student sent me this email: “Thanks for your engel pacience” First reaction? Clearly, my work here is done. Second reaction? Less clearly, something like “BWAHH?” coupled with an impulse to mock. Third reaction? Clearly, I should never try to

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  • I Did Not Either Go Back Three Days Later and Stage These Photos, So Hesh Up with Your Badgering Questions Already

    Check out my science experiment this week: When a body falls in the forest, and no one’s around to hear it, it does make a sound, and that sound is “Great Johnny Appleseed, but OWWWWWWWWWWWWW!” This scientific breakthrough happened the other day when I was out for a run on one of my favorite sections

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  • They Say They’ll Be Done in Four Weeks…

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  • Can’t Touch This

      On my first day of college twenty-four years ago, I heaved into my arms a laundry bag holding Kermit the Frog (a stuffed version, mind you; the live one was on location in Hollywood), Howard Jones cassette tapes, and aerosol cans of Aquanet. A bit tremulously, I walked into my freshman dorm. Naturally, the

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  • Ode to Sampson: I Type At You, My Vigor Diminished

    Do not even ask me to hold a kettle ball for you right now, much less to swing it around and jack up my triceps. As long as we’re on the point, incidentally, how come you’re always asking me to hold your kettle balls? At any rate, I couldn’t heft even the lightest of your

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  • If Imagination Were Actually Given Full Rein

    By jinkies and holy Marco Polo, but I’m tired. We got back from our two weeks of travel the other night, and as of today, I almost feel hydrated and centered again. Mos’ def, travels full of weddings and college reunions are hot-doggoliciously fun, but coming home from them requires a state-licensed detox program: detoxing

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  • This Gives Me Even Greater License to Drink, Right?

    I’m at my 20-year college reunion right now, so typing time is tight. I’ll simply say the beauty of attending such an event is this: I am assured I’m not the only one my age with a paunch and thinning hair. However, to my credit, and unlike many of my peers, I have not chosen

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