Adolescence is not a state one would want to inhabit voluntarily, especially after experiencing the unpleasantness the first time. Passing from childhood to maturity, both physically and emotionally, is about as much fun as getting lost in a repetitive anxiety nightmare. That’s why it’s ironic how often I’ve been in discussions recently of doing just… Continue Reading
Author Archives: Sidney Stark
The Caretaker’s Daughter
Remember, ‘Who takes care of the caretaker’s daughter when the caretaker’s busy taking care”? The 1920’s novelty song may never have been a part of your hit-parade, but it was a favorite of my grandmother’s. Often hummed under her breath and punctuated by a little chuckle, it made her feel cleverly risqué; something her Edwardian… Continue Reading
Whispering Fingers
“Just lift with your fingers!” The hundred pound planter filled with earth and flowering hibiscus didn’t budge; at least not on my side, though there was definitely air under his. “Can’t,” I grunted. “Can’t get a grip. There’s nothing to hold onto at the top.” “You’re plenty strong enough. Get some of those quads and… Continue Reading
Old Friends—Good Friends
“It’s not the mature Mozart—oh, my no. Such a difference.” “Really…” I said, my rising acidity suggesting anything but a question. I assumed the hint to end the conversation before it began could not be missed. I was wrong. “Good heavens!” I could tell from my dinner partner’s pinched nostrils and pained expression I’d stepped on… Continue Reading
What to Do?
According to the US Census Bureau, over 800,000 people are widowed in the United States each year; every year. Not that I trust the credibility of statistics (they’ll say anything with a little coaxing), but if this number is even close to accurate, it’s hard to believe we could be such an avoidable minority. Ah… Continue Reading
Subterranean Life
So much darker than daylight, oddly shadowed by occasional exposed light bulbs under dripping eaves, the building bridge protects more from weather than construction debris. Becoming part of the subterranean life of Manhattan in order to arrive on time, I hovered around the entrance to Mt. Sinai hospital under the ever-present scaffolding we’ve come to… Continue Reading