Bill and Steve and Kenny and Howie and all the old gang were there. I had absolutely no idea who they were.
We didn’t even have time to panic.
From the moment we got the call at Walt Disney World to his arrival in our lives, our time was consumed by picking up a stroller, crib and child seats for the cars and stocking up on diapers and formula. We had to finalize our medical records, complete an updated home study and send in our fingerprints for federal criminal background checks.
Bobby Lougee was my go-to guy for World War II veteran stories. He introduced me, and subsequently you, to Pearl Harbor veteran Cecil Chandler. And veteran Grover Glymph. And many others.
My wife and I recently celebrated our anniversary. This was a remarkable accomplishment, particularly when you consider that she insists on putting the toilet paper on the roll so it rolls top down and I know that it’s best done from the bottom up.
Fifteen years in this business covering high school graduations, and I still feel the palpable promise that commencement brings. Graduations are fun.
We had coped with rejection or, more accurately, non-selection, in the past. We could handle it again. Our philosophy: “We'll get a kid when we get a kid. It'll happen when it happens.”
I couldn’t remember my password. I couldn’t remember which password was the right one. I also couldn’t remember the password I had used to get into the place where I had kept all my passwords.
Bob Dole must be some kind of prophet.
Not 72 hours after Fox News aired the former Republican leader's suggestion that the GOP put out a "closed for repairs" sign, Michele Bachmann announced that she's going out of business.
Ten years ago, I walked away from journalism and never looked back. Well, that was the plan, anyway.
For the last couple of weeks, I’ve been traveling and been a houseguest at a number of friends’ houses. It is, of course, the only good reason to have friends in the first place. Otherwise, you have to listen to them tell you about their gall bladder surgery.
Memorial Day isn’t like Veterans Day. The military service members we’re honoring aren’t alive. They’re not wearing uniforms and marching down the street in a parade. What remains above ground is a U.S. flag folded into a triangle and kept in someone’s closet or encased in a display case.
Here’s your personal weather report, complete with Doppler 5000-Dow Jones 4,873, bottom of the ninth, two men on, radar.
Summer calendar planning is fun.
I have one of those big desktop calendars I write all my story assignments and deadlines on, in pen.
In pencil, I make notes of things I come across that would be fun to do off the clock. If you read our Entertainment section this past Friday, you saw the bevy of free outdoor music and movies showing throughout the hot months. The best ones are on weekends, not weeknights, because not everyone works and lives right next to venues. Just saying.
I didn’t know what to do with the large flask of after-shave lotion that came in the shape of a baseball glove. And smelled a little bit like one, too.
There’s been a great backlash in the past few years against that notion of there being some battle between mothers. It’s an upper middle class and wealthy made-up problem. Most of it is and was waged on the Internet and in some ridiculous books. All it does is make women look like a bunch of jerks.