CLOSE TO HOME
The art of the shakeHandshakes are like snowflakes, no two alike, except a handshake tells something about the person connected to the grip. >MoreWheeling in the yearsToo cheap to rent a campus parking space, too impatient to
wait for a city bus, I bike to work year-round. Bike commuters, no matter their reasons for riding, get involved with their bicycles. That's why it was a big blow to walk out to our garage last weekend and find my bike ripped off. >MoreA shoveling man tells his storyI may be a thermal redneck, but the global warming hoo-ha reminds me of the big bust that was Y2K. Talk to me in another 10,000 years. Meanwhile, I've got shoveling to do. >MoreMy deal with DadMy sister Molly and I became more aggressive about harassing
his habit by the time we were teenagers. Older and wiser, we saw through the smoke of the 'cutting down' routine and changed our tactic. We introduced the word 'quit' along about New Year's 1972. >MoreThe folks back home fondly remember youYou don't know me, but I've seen you on TV. I know! Small
world, isn't it? That's not all we have in common. My kids go to Madison East,
and you're an East alum, so what are the odds? Like family! >MoreCulled from the herdMeanwhile, a boy sits in Mrs. Barnette's homeroom. One
hundred pounds of hormones beneath a shock of chlorine-fried hair, his green eyes shift madly in search of the eyes of a girl, any girl, to return his gaze. No takers. This boy is me. >MoreWater, water everywhereThe meeting had just started and already Carl was on a roll.
'That's exactly why,' he said, pausing to take a long pull from his bottled water, 'we need to follow this up next month.' He screwed the blue-plastic cap into place with a sharp twist. His sure-handed bottle business left no doubt that Carl knew what he was talking about. And that he was thirsty. Decisively thirsty. >MoreThe maple in my front yardSome people bond with a new home as soon as they walk in.
Not me. I knew our current house was ours before I crossed the threshold. On the day we pulled up to check it out, I just sat in the van. >MoreLife at the poolOur teens teach swim lessons ' the royalty of summer
employment. I stand in the yard every morning watching them drive away, burning with envy. That used to be me, so I know what I'm missing. I rocked. I could teach a flying monkey to swim. >MoreMy missing yearsI used to be ashamed that it took me 11 years to graduate
from UW-Madison. At parties and picnics, during beers and breezy banter, I
dreaded the question, "When did you go to school here?" Luckily, since my
answer spanned a decade, no one took me seriously. "Ha!" people laughed. "No,
really!" >More |