Laughing Gas and the Chestnut Tree

When I was growing up we lived on a shady street in the Bronx.  Several doctors and dentists had offices on our block and my dad was one of them.  He was a GP who practiced on the ground floor of our three-story house and we lived on the two upper floors “over the store”.   (See Fluffy, or How I Got My Dog and The Corpse in the Office) For many years a dentist named Ben rented space in my dad’s office.  Ben was a wonderfully kind and gentle man and he and his wife Eleanor became my...

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West Side Story

One wintry afternoon feeling chilled I stopped at an upper-westside cafe.  I asked for a cup of tea and drinking it I overheard an attractive older woman at the next table tell the waiter someone was meeting  her. She was looking toward the door when a handsome gray-haired man entered,   glanced around the room,  and approached her table.   She rose and there in the middle of that small cafe they embraced and kissed,  and for those brief moments seemed oblivious to all around them. Then...

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Around the World in 80 Days

I seldom saw my parents feuding,   but there was one thorny issue they couldn’t agree on.   When my mother retired after years of teaching she wanted my father to retire as well so like many of their retired friends they could travel freely. They had traveled a bit over the years – across country,  to Mexico and Canada,  to much of Europe,  and to Israel – but not to Africa or Asia or Australia,  and my mother wanted to see all those places.   She wasn’t hoping for a...

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Skinny Dipping

For several summers in our married-without-children years we rented a beach house with our good friends J and K.  After a few years our friends – serious fishermen by then – opted for the mountains instead and bought a house near a trout stream.  (See Catskill Weekend) We rented that wonderful beach house by ourselves for another summer or two,  and after our son Noah was born,  and before we moved on to summer houses in other climes,  we continued to rent it for a few more...

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Pickled!

For years I worked on my tennis game,  and even went to adult tennis camp 3 or 4 times,    but I seemed to have plateaued somewhere between advanced beginner and intermediate.   I blame my parents of course for my lack of prowess as they apparently valued piano over tennis lessons for their kids.   (And by the way after all that money spent,  and those fights with my mother over practicing,  all I can play now are a few opening bars of Fur Elise.)   (See Tennis) Then in my 40s I...

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