We’re in a grand foyer. A Beverly Hillbillies  staircase winds up to the house’s second level. Me and a bunch of the other kids are corralled past the Christmas tree, so we won’t have to tip-toe to see the big show. My cousin Mary-Esther the dance teacher steps forward. She’s wearing a red leotard, green skirt and a baby bump. Her hair is in a ballerina bun. “Welcome to the VFW Purple Heart Christmas Party!” Her assistant, my cousin Carl Otto, puts the needle down on a high-

Trick or treat is a binary choice. Binary choices are inevitable; but create division, leaving you in one camp or the other. Either or. Blue or Red. What I am against, decides what the world thinks I am for.                   My brother Butch is many things, including intellectually disabled. He just moved into a supervised home. Getting him approved for that level of benefits took years. Years , despite being the son of a military veteran left permanently disabled by a WWII

Family is like a supermarket bouquet. You’re happy to have it, but you suspect there are better ones out there. Daisies beside tired...

My mother is crying. Sobbing is hard to hide in a small house.            Today, due to oxygen issues, a doctor’s mistake, my brother has...

Naughty, willful, childish disobedience, is usually a luxury. One in which I didn’t often participate. My family was too complicated to...

My latest column for the River Reporter.

School trip to France. Hooray! I took French for just that reason. Surely speaking French meant someday going where French was spoken. I...

When I was 9-years old I volunteered for McGovern’s presidential campaign, without mentioning it to my parents. Nothing major – just...

You’re walking down the street. An overheard turn of phrase. The color of someone’s hair. A breeze. Something snatches you from the...

Evenings get chillier. Days get shorter. Thanksgiving arrives, which is always a special holiday at our house. This is the happiest one I...