Fifteen years ago: I quit golf and try a less expensive hobby to humiliate myself. I’ll write a book. A long habit will lead me: Whenever an odd thought passes by, I grab it and force it into a
1964. I have nothing against the suit and tie; it’s just that I don’t have them in my wardrobe. In my last college semester, for my first professional-type job interview, I borrow my roomm
As we pass from one life phase to another, it’s not unusual to make resolutions. Two years ago I passed from work to retirement — and I resolved.
It’s time to check up — how&r
He is dressed as a cowboy and looks to be about 6, which, according to my (admittedly yet unpublished) Rules of Diner Etiquette, is about two years too old to be leaning over the back of his booth, in
I’m 65. The TV is on because I like background
noise as I pretend to do my morning exercises.
The man has a few wrinkles around his eyes, but his
eyes are clear and bright. His
Henry Rose is a man full of charity, kindness, and
even temper; he can’t recall ever thinking ill of anyone, and
he’s never been angry. Life is good, always has been, and through
John awoke to searing pain, running from
behind both eyes to the middle of his forehead: a migraine
triangle. He pressed his palms hard against both temples, went to