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-fi. Scratchy...

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 sniper....

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