The Art of the Dirty Word.
tweet this
There are a few things in this world that I would wish on everyone: among those are good friends, Chinese take-out, and a Nana. Everyone should have a Nana. I'll just get that out, right upfront. And everyone should go with their Nana to the doctor and spend the whole day eating ice cream sundaes, getting lost on the way to the doctor's office, and making a sidebar trip to an outlet store for a new pair of Sunday shoes. This is but one important thing that makes a Nana so wonderful. To name another would seem like bragging. And that's just not...
When TVs were furniture.
When I was growing up, we only had three channels on TV. Four, if the weather held and the antenna was cooperative. Those precious, precious channels were 2, 4, 9, and sometimes 11. If not for the fickle, rusty antenna, I may very well have developed an unnatural kinship with the TV. Oh, that antenna...a genuine eyesore, standing as it had my whole life, like a Sentry a little above the chimney; it also served as a lightning rod, so you know, we had to decide which was more important: ABC on Channel 11 coming out of Meridian legibly, or a house on fire if we were ever...
You can go home again…it's just frustrating.
Thomas Wolfe wrote, "You can't go home again." (At least, I think he did). But you know what: you can. I do it every Sunday. Mainly because I don't want to miss Nana's cooking; it's in a class of its own...and I love going home, I do, but you want to know a secret: It's also quite often very aggravating. Why is that? Why is going home such a frustrating experience? Sometimes, I think, it's because as soon as I open that front door and step inside, I'll see that nothing has changed, and I'll feel like I haven't changed either. And I hate that feeling. Despite...
Advertise With Us
