Hey, kid. Or old lady. Or guy in business suit.
What’s that thing hanging on your ear?
A cell phone, you tell me. I see. And you’re saying important stuff into it. None of my business, you say. This is true, but I’m curious. It’s been hanging there for hours.
You’re busy, you say. Appointments to nail down. The hair dresser. The eye doctor. Is the dry cleaning ready? Can you pick up your re-soled wingtips? Has your cousin Martha’s niece’s daughter had her baby? Continue reading “That Thing On Your Ear”
Perhaps you remember it. Angel hair. I think a law was passed forbidding its sale because it was spun glass, bits of which could get into your skin or eyes.
You brought it out at Christmas. It was a little like cotton batting, maybe not quite so thick, and you pulled it, thinning out gauzy strands you then arranged on the Christmas tree, especially around the lights, those jolly fat lights that, wih metallic reflectors behind them, looked like psychedelic flowers. Continue reading “Angel Hair”
Halloween is my least favorite holiday, if holiday it is. I don’t remember enjoying it even as a child. Well, not beyond the candy.
Late October in Minnesota is usually teeth-rattlingly chilly, especially on the prairie where the wind screams across the Dakota border. When Dakotans say Badlands, they know whereof they speak. Consequently, when I was little, we wore winter coats over our costumes and, frankly, fairy princesses and ballerinas lose something in that translation. Continue reading “What About The Candy?”