In Praise of the Inappropriate
There’s an art to saying the wrong thing at the right time. And the older I get, the more I think there’s a gene that causes it. If there is, I know this: it’s passed on the mother’s side.
My maternal grandmother, Gert, was a master of the art of the inappropriate comment. With me, a cherished grandson, she was a sweetheart. With my mom, she was … less sweet.
Quitting Smoking. Again.
People are often surprised to find out I am, or was (depending on when you catch me), a smoker. I’ve…
I can’t complain.
I talk to my grandma most weekends. She’s an amazing woman. She lived through the horrors of the Holocaust, and…
Come with me to Denmark
I’m going to be in Denmark for the next few days. I’m speaking at the ubercool Knock Knock conference all…
The Kid Always Gets the Last Word
My nephew Hugh is two years old. And, as the husband of the sister of his mother, it is my…