What a fascinating process; metabolism . Its scientific designation runs from breaking matter down, to absorbing and burning it up for circulation as fuel. We don’t have many words in the English language that cover such a gamut. The romance languages are better at that, acknowledging many ways to make use of the nuance of… Continue Reading
Author Archives: Sidney Stark
Selective Sympathy
What a terrible shock it is to find you’re not who you thought you were. Even worse when you learn the discrepancy comes in an area of characteristics you held most dear. Recently I discovered I was not the sympathetic, all-compassionate soul I’d always prided myself on being. I learned in fact that I practice… Continue Reading
Adolescence
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
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