Stashes of Boomer Stuff
Life as a Miracle for the Colando couple seems to revolve around airports, not a door.
Life as a Miracle related to travel validates our quest, our zest for forays throughout the world.
The one I’ll relate in this post rolls back to 1993, when my husband traveled-for-a-month on business+fun in Europe.… ...
What kind of person would quip thus to a waiter: “Bring me the smallest check, please?”
A cheeky one; that’s me, in case you don’t know. I may have smirked, but I didn’t wink. I promise; I was sincere.
What kind of waiter would take overlong to return to our table with the check…as he endlessly reduce-copied the bill to a thumbnail size.… ...
I’d just arrived home from a writing critique meeting. My work wasn’t on deck, so it hadn’t been rough… on me. But I felt another writer’s pain as he looked in my eyes, witness to the slaughter of others’ opinions that spewed forth around the table, each trying to dominate, to win!… ...
As much as I crave my claim to a nonjudgmental nature, I snared myself the other day. Caught red-handed, er, red-faced.
I maligned a couple of sullen overaged teens for spending too much time immersed in online games. Games with names sounding vaguely of comic books and war tomes.… ...
“How can they allow motorcycles between the cars on the freeways? What if someone opened their cardoor?”
This question/comment from a Colorado visitor long before the state legalized dope… Yikes!
Neither my husband or I replied. How could we? We were/are not ‘they’ and the imbecilic notion of opening one’s car door while going 65+ mph couldn’t be touched politely.… ...