All That Jazz

We both grew up in classical music-loving families,  and still keep our radio set to WQXR,  though admittedly we seldom go to classic concerts or opera.  And as children of the 50s we love rock & roll, and doo wop and folk and country,  and of course the Beatles and the Stones and the Dead,  and the whole rockin’ and soulful soundtrack of our generation.  Our son follows the jam band Phish and we love their sound too.  But though we enjoy all that music,  we don’t...

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Milk and Honey

FLU SEASON,  Apt 16A,  3:00 am HE (coughing violently, wakes spouse)  “My throat is killing me.  I think I need some warm milk and honey.” SHE (sleepily)  “Oh you poor boy.  I’ll go fix it.” She gets out of bed,  puts on her bathrobe and slippers and trudges off to the kitchen. TWO WEEKS LATER,  Apt 16A,  3:00 am SHE (coughing violently,  wakes spouse)  “I guess I’ve caught your flu.  My throat is killing me.  I think I need some warm milk...

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Hostage to Fortune

I’ve been feeling sorry for myself lately,  still immobilized and wheelchair-bound by my second ankle surgery a few weeks ago.  And then this week our cousin’s son Ariel,  a young guy in his 30s,  fell on the ice and broke his hip.  He had surgery but is still in a lot of pain and anticipates a long rehab.  Thankfully Ariel and I will recover,  but not so others in our family who suffer incurable ills. Of course tragedy plays no favorites, and this week we learned of two...

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Missing Pussycat

When we were newly married we lived in New Rochelle with our first pussycat,  a beautiful black velvety tom named Smokey. Our small apartment building had no doorman so I was used to carrying in the groceries myself. One day I stopped on the way home from work to do the marketing.  Once home with my armload of groceries,  I fumbled with my keys and let myself into the apartment.  I headed for the kitchen, unpacked the groceries and was starting to make dinner when I realized Smokey...

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