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Teaching Kids Skiing, And Other Things . . .

Teaching Kids Skiing, And Other Things . . .

Ahh, the sound of teaching kids skiing:   “SKIS! YOU LISTEN TO ME! YOU DON’T LISTEN TO ME! AND I HATE YOU! AND I HATE . . . GRRR . . .  SNOW!!!!”     I sat on the bunny slope in my ski pants, watching from a safe distance about...

Drywall Repair as Teen Rebellion

One drawback of growing up with “creative” parents: Being rebellious is hard work. But I found a way. My dad thought most manual labor was below him. He was a musician, songwriter, playwright, and occasional vacuum-cleaner salesman (No lie: You do what you...
Fatherhood: Riding Bikes Together

Fatherhood: Riding Bikes Together

I had an essential experience of fatherhood yesterday. For the first time my son and I rode bicycles together. But the experience was oddly bittersweet.   My dad and I never rode together. I learned to ride a bike on my 7th birthday. Dad lifted the pre-assembled...
Love and Bullets

Love and Bullets

Typical conversation around my house a few days a week:   Son: “Does an Uzi shoot .32’s?” Me: “I suppose you could get them rechambered for that, but stock they’re 9mm Luger–most of them. That’s close to a .38. Why would...

Poem: To My Son

“To My Son” Let no one make of you a thing to be prized, Nor cast off once inconvenient. Let nothing dim your curiosity, Nor bitter your intentions. Know that love and love alone Grew you and sustained you, And your father only ever claimed to be...