There is a scene in A Fish Called Wanda where John Cleese is wooing Jamie Lee Curtis. He comically dances around the first floor of a flat in London, doing a striptease and speaking Russian—foreign languages are a fetish for the Jamie Lee Curtis character—as she...
Invisible bonds exist between certain people, such as that between members in the military or those that tie a family together, and one such connection is present between mothers.
All I understand is: My heart lives inside my daughter.
There are things you know you shouldn’t do, yet you do them anyway. Case in point: upon getting my infant daughter Hillary out of her crib recently, I realized I had to do some #1 business in the bathroom.
On October 20, 2012, a child of but 22-days old passed away at Lurie Children’s Hospital in Chicago, IL. He was a native of Iowa, from a city just outside my wife Lydia’s hometown of Moulton.
When your big brother is a dog, all will be well in your world.
I had my first nightmare in 1979. I was 10 years old. It took me somewhere in the neighborhood of an hour to calm down, and no matter what evil dreams I’ve had over the years, that moment remained the benchmark for horrific thoughts. Until October 20th, 2012.
There are many reasons I am a comedian and not a singer, but the main two are: My shitty singing voice and my inability to carry a tune.
That said, it’s good to know that I’m good for one thing: causing sneezes.
At 3½ weeks old, my daughter Hillary made the big-step transfer from a bassinet in the master bedroom, to the crib in her own nursery. Lydia said the move needed to be made, but I was having none of it. I asked if one of us should sleep in the spare bed we put in the...
I don’t remember exactly what grade, but at some point during junior high I was in the car with my mom, and a friend. I said something politically incorrect, and my mom shushed me. A little embarrassed, my friend laughed and said, “Your son” while shaking his head. My...
“What have we here, laddie? Mysterious scribblings? A secret code? No! Poems, no less! Poems everybody! The laddie reckons himself a poet!”
It is always interesting when seeing the world through the eyes of a bigot. And, of course, by “interesting,” I mean sad.