Posts by tag
life lessons
Estate Sale
And so I often find myself wandering through a hollow house alone, as he adventures to the tool sheds in the far corner of a backyard. I sift through the trinkets, the decorated knives, commemorative postcards, and wonder – who held these before me? I find a binder full to bursting with buttons of all types and sizes and colors. What hands carefully sewed each into place?
Greece: There and Back on the Magic Bus. Part 1
Lesson learned. When dealing with the Island Greeks, they’re lovely people, but they’ll take you to the cleaners given half a chance. This deflated our egos for a few nanoseconds. We saw a family out back refilling plastic water bottles from a well. If the silly tourists want bottled water, we’ll sell them bottled water. This was the Greek idea of keeping the tourists happy.
Testing, Testing
I knew I was an excellent candidate, as they cheerfully say in medical circles, for sudden death. Most everyone on both sides of the generation before mine had suddenly dropped dead before the age of 60. Some had lingered due to repetitive strokes. Fortunately, I had passed the age threshold, but I wondered how much longer I could defy the odds.
Back to the Football #2 UE Sants vs Granollers EC
One of the joys of this level of football, a joy that detracts somewhat from the actual football itself, is the rapture of proximity. Whatever trials and tribulations the working week throws at you, however painful the boredom of retirement or the frustration of youth, all the rage that you carry can be readily directed at an arbitrary arbiter, or whoever is playing on the wing next to the only stand.
Back to the Football with Laurence Rivers #1 UE Sants vs Terrassa FC
Summer’s over and like it or loath it, football is back. Green and white hoops are the colours of debatable success, conjuring up images of Sporting Lisbon, Real Betis, Celtic, maybe even Yeovil Town and as UE Sants graced the packed ‘Energia’ stadium, clad in the virescent and wan kits that defined last year’s halcyon days in Spain’s fifth tear ‘Primera Catalana’.
Just Standing There in the Dark
The basic truth of long-distance public transport rest stops is that although you get the stop aspect, no-one rests. This is due to a potent mix of acute social awkwardness, muzak and bad colour schemes. An empty bladder, stretched legs and popped-up blood sugar at a premium price is the best combo you can hope for.
My Travels with Christianity
God doesn’t mind if we lie, as long as our lies glorify Him. Women need to be quiet in church and cede control of their minds and bodies to men, who always know best. God is sad when we say Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas.
Noir the Savior
Senior year my mother did two months for larceny. That August she tried walking out with two carts full of groceries. I lived noir. I managed a story that became my first published in the school magazine. She was still in prison that October when my birthday rolled around. I woke up at three-thirty in the morning and read James Thompson’s Snow Angels until I left for the bus.
The Strange Case of Derick Johnson
For some reason, my first instinct was to assume that Derick Johnson was a figment of Nick’s imagination or a sort of creative in-joke between some of the players. The name, I observed, sounded like a character from Mad Men. I imagined a dapper fellow in his mid-thirties turning up to play, with a short glass of scotch on the rocks in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
Do You Remember Friday?
Do you remember Fridays? The indescribable feeling of utter joy that signified that thankfully school was over for another two days. The misery of sitting in a classroom against your will was to be alleviated and replaced with the respite of resentment from parents who didn’t know what to do with you. Yes, Friday was a fine time. Friday represented hope a brief, fleeting window in which anything was possible and the misery of school, with its press-gang style education was exposed for what it was, finite.
Bidet: A Most European Experience
I had shat literally all I could possibly shit, but somewhere, deep down, I knew I would need to shit again imminently. Such are the joys of food poisoning, or in this case some dodgy Albanian tap water. In fairness, the foreign office advice had been fairly clear cut.
Things I Haven’t Said
Michael Herrington recalls his childhood of growing up with a stutter. Commonly misunderstood, living with a speech impediment can affect you in many ways often invisible to the listener.
The Inner Dialogue of Retail
The inner dialogue between a cashier and an overworked mother in small town America. A must for all those who have worked behind the counter.
I Survived 27 Surgeries
I may not have a stomach but I sure am hungry for life. 10 years and 27 surgeries later, this is my story.
A Fire for Help
It had been years since our father left. Our mother held a secretary job during the day and was no match for Dominic and I working to extend our freedoms.
Why I Kill the People I Love…Inside my head
I murder the people I love inside my head. I fantasize about where I’ll go, what I’ll do and how their funerals will be.
Words of Wisdom: Career
Words of Wisdom about career and work by acclaimed aphorist Yahia Lababidi, featuring illustrations by Allen Forrest.
Did you wash these dishes?
Family life can be a real lottery sometimes. When bullying permeates home life who do you turn to?
Replacement
How do you cope with the death of a child? “Replacement” deals with the fallout from family tragedy.
Working in a Canning Factory
I took a job in a factory that cans peas, a less than rosy introduction to the working world.
The Boy after the Boy who cried Wolf
I have lung cancer, stage 1, prognosis says two-to-five years if I continue to refuse treatment. I’m not lying.
