I will construct no Facebook-fueled bucket list built for mass consumption. Instead, on a beautiful day in the hopefully not-too-distant future, my wife and I will fill our grandchildren’s buckets with sand as we erect towering castles and briny moats. I am confident the sands of time may trickle down a little bit slower in those moments of connection.
A recent conversation with an old friend led me to realize just how steadfast I am in my pro-choice position. Pro-life is a bumper sticker. Pro-choice is an act of love that goes the distance.
As I sat down on the toilet for my daily quiet time, cellphone in one hand, iPad in another, I suddenly had a strange sensation. Like that sleepover prank when someone sticks your finger in warm water. But it wasn’t my finger and it definitely wasn’t warm. I jumped quickly to me feet, as a …
An innocuous email. A simple request. What could be so bad? “Looking to burn off those latkes from Chanukah? Join us and other fellow congregants for an afternoon of spinning.” My mind began to turn. The idea intriguing. I mean, I did consume bushels of potatoes over the holidays. Why not bite? So, with mind …
(as appearing on The Huffington Post site: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/57dca07ae4b0d5920b5b2bb4?timestamp=1474078095514) “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you!” “Thanks Mom.” “I can’t believe my boy is 55 years old.” “Neither can I. I still think I’m 25. How are things? Still raining in Florida?” “Stopped raining yesterday. Played canasta last night. I couldn’t be stopped. Won $7.00.” …
A voice whispered in my ear at the Starbucks’ counter. “Wait until next week. You’ll be amazed how many houses go on the market.” “What are you talking about?” I was confused yet intrigued. “Last kid off to college. It’s either sell or split up, divorce or divest. Time to pack it up.” This observation …
As I walked across the room on a cool spring night, I looked at the action in progress. Scores of teenagers flew by me, clad in oversized sparkly glasses, hats and colorful socks. They sprinted from photo booths to the kid’s lounge, depositing their goods procured from hyped up, jacked-up DJ dancers hired to tantalize …
Life after 50: One Man’s Perspective on Aging… and George Clooney.
While conducting one of my random Google searches, I realized George Clooney, that paradigm of all things good and good looking, is one month older than I. Yet, his fiancé is 15 years younger than my wife. Is this the new math for men over 50? I mean, George and I were both born when …
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Burb Man: Tales, Tasks and To Do Lists from the Trenches of Suburbia 