The Permanent Fatherly/Daughterly Record
Or: In memoriam
Eos: “Subject: Missing Dad.
“My dad worked the ‘swing shift’ as a mechanic at Northwest Airlines when I was a little kid. He got home about 11:30 p.m. He always stayed up for a while and read the newspaper at the kitchen table. Sometimes I got up, and he’d give me some milk and a cookie, and we would talk. I just loved that special alone time with him.
Continue reading “Why did she take accordion lessons? Because her dad was a big Myron Floren fan!”
Welcome to New York!
KH of White Bear Lake reports: “Our daughter moved to New York City to start a job in Brooklyn in August.
“One piece of advice she was given was that New York was not the Midwest: When you meet people on the sidewalk, you do not make eye contact, and you do not say anything.
Continue reading “There are 8,499,999 stories (plus 1) in the Naked City. You are about to read one cheery Midwesterner’s!”
Our caterpillars, ourselves
D. Ziner reports: “I try my best not to mess with Mother Nature. I don’t feed Her wild kids, and even though it sometimes seems cruel, I don’t interfere when Her kids get really wild and eat one another.
Continue reading “Hello there, little Woolly Bear. What are you doing out here in the snow?”
Tim Torkildson writes: “Clowns are not supposed to die. They get walloped with mallets and blown up with large red sticks of dynamite, but they’re supposed to just run around after the fatal blow and then wave merrily at the crowd.
“It’s not fair when a clown dies. Or when love dies. Or a child dies.
Continue reading ““It’s not fair when a clown dies. Or when love dies. Or a child dies.””