Q is for Quirky

(re-run) When I was in high school and bought some of my clothes at the DAV thrift store, they called me quirky. When I made a cool pair of bell bottom jeans out of my dad’s old work pants, they called me quirky, but they also asked me where I got them. When I broke… Continue reading Q is for Quirky

A Disco Era Story

The band room was a freezer. “Vamos a sentarnos en el pasillo, clase.” “What?” “We’ll sit in the hallway today.” It was zero degrees outside. The school district wanted a Spanish class but had no classroom for me. I’d complained a zillion times – when the band teacher held private tuba lessons in his office,… Continue reading A Disco Era Story

Imitation is the Sincerest Form of Flattery

(re-run) When I was in high school and bought some of my clothes at the DAV (Disabled American Vets) thrift store, they called me quirky. When I made a cool pair of bell bottom jeans out of my dad’s old work pants, they called me quirky, but they also asked me where I got them.… Continue reading Imitation is the Sincerest Form of Flattery

Why Are Birthdays Such a Big Deal?

If you’re like me, you remember some of your birthdays, the really good ones and the really bad ones. The older you get, the more focused they become as the other ones fall away. Why are birthdays such a big deal?  Everyone has one every year, and we each share the date with millions of… Continue reading Why Are Birthdays Such a Big Deal?

I Need More Friends

“Fireflies are the confetti of angels.”  That is some great writing.  If you haven’t seen the new show, Bless This Mess, it is hilarious. There is no laugh track, Barbara.  No live audience, either, Old Dave. Maybe it’s because the show is set in Nebraska, where I used to teach. I lived in a farmhouse… Continue reading I Need More Friends

Q is for Quirky

When I was in high school and bought some of my clothes at the DAV thrift store, they called me quirky. When I made a cool pair of bell bottom jeans out of my dad’s old work pants, they called me quirky, but they also asked me where I got them. When I broke tradition… Continue reading Q is for Quirky