(re-run) The farm house was next to the highway, close enough for me to hear the train come by every night, and far enough away from the tracks to get used to sleeping through it. No houses could be seen from any window — just trees, sky, and lots of cornfields. It was a peaceful… Continue reading Asparagus, Anyone?
(re-run) When I was twenty-eight I bought my first house. It was in Omaha, on 50th Avenue, south of Leavenworth. It was a cute little two bedroom, one bath with a full basement and big fenced-in backyard. Since I wanted to get a dog, it seemed perfect. I had a budget, and this house was… Continue reading Worst Neighbors Ever
Whenever a Fleetwood Mac song comes on, everyone around me goes gah-gah. I admit that the Rumours album is a good one, but I just don’t feel it like everyone else does. The other month, I tried to figure out why that is. At karaoke, many of my girlfriends want to sing Fleetwood Mac songs.… Continue reading Fleetwood Who?
(re-run) When I lived in Omaha for eight years in my twenties, I dated almost all the eligible men I met in my age range, at least once — shorter guys, smokers, non-dancers, younger guys, poorer guys (I was a school teacher!) and guys with facial hair. But I NEVER dated a guy with back… Continue reading Teddy Bear with Back Hair
(re-run) After moving to Omaha and teaching for a couple of years across the Missouri River in Council Bluffs, Iowa, I grew tired of driving a car that smelled like a mildewed basement. My Chevy Monza had suffered through a Nebraska flood back at the farmhouse, and the car stank. I couldn’t afford a new… Continue reading Waitresses Make the Best Tippers
(re-run) By the time I graduated college, I’d had somewhere close to 37 roommates: the first two in the triple room my freshman year, the next two in another triple when I changed dorms after one quarter, my solo roommate all of sophomore year, then the string of roomies after I moved into the sorority… Continue reading Worst Roommate Ever
(re-run) Every dance bar in Omaha ended the night with its signature song. One bar closed with Last Dance by Donna Summer, another used Shout from the Blues Brothers movie (by the Isley Brothers) as its sign-off song. But my fave dance bar closed with the song New York, New York. It seemed an odd… Continue reading Dance with Me, Young Jeremy
When I was a young adult, this expression was a warning to us to straighten up and fly right – to stay out of trouble. It was said to young men more than it was said to young women, but it meant that things would come our way if we followed the rules. Today’s young… Continue reading Keep Your Nose Clean
She taught the research class at the University of Nebraska at Omaha. I needed the course to earn my master’s degree. It would be easy. I’d written dozens of research papers at Iowa State. She said we could choose any topic. All we had to do was take a position, defend it with an intro,… Continue reading Worst Professor Ever
(re-run) After moving to Omaha and teaching for a couple of years across the Missouri River in Council Bluffs, Iowa, I grew tired of driving a car that smelled like a mildewed basement. My poor Chevy Monza had suffered through a Nebraska flood back at the farmhouse, and the car stank. I couldn’t afford a… Continue reading Waitresses Make the Best Tippers