My father taught me many things. Some on purpose. Some on accident.
How to tie a tie.
How to tie a cleat hitch.
How to put away a dozen raw oysters. And that you should only eat them in months that have r in them.
That black dress socks pulled up to the knee with white slip on Keds is not a good look for anyone.
Bellies and bald heads sun burn first.
That change adds up.
That nothing is free.
That life is anything but fair.
That Bs aren’t good enough.
How to order a beer in at least a half dozen languages.
The way to Eldorado. (gaily bedight this gallant knight in sunshine and in shadow.)
How to pour a drink.
How to throw a cowpatty. (yes, you read that correctly).
How to drive a boat.
How to properly taste wine, although it involves something called clucking, and I think looks ridiculous. And should never be tried with whiskey.
To tip well.
To never run out of gas.
To play a mean game of ping pong.
That strawberries stain.
That you get what you pay for.
To let your meat rest.
I am about a week into summer and feel like I have already
gotten a summer’s worth of material. One week and one day ago, I was giving finals. And the power
went out, which I can assure you are ideal final taking conditions. In the
So I was out in the hallway joking around with a few other
grown ups. Someone said something inappropriate (not me for a change) and I
literally doubled over with laughter. And when I went to right myself, pain
shot all the way up my spine. And stayed there. As I hobbled down the hall.
Now, I am coming up on another birthday. Usually birthdays don’t phase me. I
dig them. It means going out with my friends, getting to pick where we go,
pedicures and presents. My husband and a few friends have given me the grow up
lecture more than once, so the years creeping up don’t usually phase me. But as
the pain lingered in my back with every step and it took a pep talk to get me
out of my chair…this birthday I am feeling every one of my years. Friends recommend…