Some years ago, my mom had an endoscopy, an undignified procedure in which tubes were stuck down her throat. I attended the festivities as both Uber driver and emotional support animal. My mom was much too tough at 87 to admit to needing either a driver or any help whatsoever—her
Father and son on a pristine beach, the lake smooth as glass. Among the colored rocks are any number of perfectly flat stones wholly perfect for skipping. The father picks up a stone, skims it across the water. The stone bounces a few feet from the coast then vaults twenty
A father and his young adult daughter are vacationing. In Venice, Stacey complains about the food. In Florence, she grumbles about her aching feet. At the Uffizi, she is grumpy about how her dad wants to spend nineteen hours staring at each and every painting in the eight-gazillion square foot
This essay isn’t another vignette about meaningful insights gleaned during a marathon. This column is about an ultra-event, a 50-mile slog—not a typo, 50 miles–through the swamp at Fakahatchee. “Where fun goes to die” may be the motto of The University of Chicago, but I would venture to suggest that
The podiatrist greets the moth but before the podiatrist can say anything the moth starts talking. My life is an unending cycle of pain, the moth begins. My job is meaningless and repetitive, my boss is needlessly demeaning. I wake up every morning next to a woman with whom I
A man wants to get in touch with a US senator. He goes to a well-connected Washington lobbyist. “I need a meeting with the senator,” he says. “I can get you a connected with the senator” replies the lobbyist. “The charge will be ten thousand dollars.” “Ten thousand dollars?” the
Just as Edison is frequently invoked as knowing a thousand ways not to make a lightbulb, I am intimately familiar with how to run a marathon so as not to qualify for Boston. Having had the good sense to turn 50 and noticing the requisite time necessary to get a
As an undergraduate I majored in mathematics. As a counselor, I advise students who want to study anything other than math, anything. Accounting, anthropology, astronomy, all the way through the alphabet to zoology. I don’t emphasize my ongoing love of number theory and I certainly don’t suggest that all my
There are myriad reasons not to be a family. There is only one reason to put up with your cigarette-smoking, nose-picking, inept, unpleasant, disruptive, opinionated, boorish grandparents, in-laws, cousins, and siblings. Did I mention that they are also offensive, insensitive, and inappropriate? Do I have to remind you that they
Who reads undergraduate admissions essays? Who makes the determinations whether applicants get the coveted email with attachments for signing up for their dorm and selecting a roommate or the dreaded “we regret to inform you that we had too many qualified applicants this year and that there is no space
Copyright © David Altshuler 1980 – 2022 | Miami, FL • Charlotte, NC | (305) 978-8917 | [email protected]
