Time spent sheltering-in-place due to the Corona virus pandemic has allowed me the opportunity to re-read a few hundred of these newsletters. While I stand by what I have written—“play Parcheesi with your kids; go camping with your kids; play Parcheesi with your kids while camping”—I noticed a certain strident
“You are a concierge medical practice. We pay you a lot of money. You are supposed to look after your patients. Why haven’t you gone to my mother’s house to check up on her? Why haven’t you been there to test her for the virus? You know she’s 87 years
Division is my thing. I love how a dollar can be perfectly divided into four equal parts each one of which has its own name, a quarter. I love seven as a denominator. The repeating six digits have an eloquent pattern. One seventh equals .142857… Two sevenths is .285714… It’s
In round numbers it has been 40 years since my first half marathon, 40 days since my last. At some point, the definition of “last“ shifts. “Last“ always means “most recent“ until it doesn’t. Then “last“ means “final,” there was never another one. Absent actually dying on the course—an unpleasant
This just in: there is pot at every school in this country. Even ten years ago, there were day schools and boarding schools that were free of kids who use marijuana. Not anymore. Every school in this country has students who consider “weed” part of a good breakfast. Every school.
My buddy Michael can beat you at chess. You know the hyperbolic expression, “he’s so good he can beat you blindfolded“? In Michael’s case, the playground taut is totally true. He doesn’t even need to look at the chess board to stomp you. Blindfolded chess is a thing. And Michael
How many loving parents would encourage their children to smoke cigarettes? How many sensible moms and dads would recommend that their kids take recreational opioids? What about student loans? Would any rational parent recommend that their students be graduated with more debt than they are likely to earn in a
One of my mom’s favorite jokes was about the guy searching under the streetlamp for his lost silver dollar. “Where did you lose the coin?” his friend inquires. “I’ll help you look.” “I dropped it over there in the woods.” “Then why are you looking here under the streetlamp?” “Because
Having heard on the radio that The Irreducible Needs of Children had just been published, I emphatically sped across town. My flouting of conventional driving mores will be understood: Stanley Greenspan and T. Berry Brazelton are among our country’s most profound thinkers on child development. I didn’t want to arrive
A scant 40-something years ago, my friend Nina had a wicked crush on Brad, a hunky senior, two years older than we. Having determined from the “I-like-him-do-you-think-he-likes-me?” grapevine that Brad might not be averse to spending a Saturday evening with Nina, but still too shy to ask out a B-O-Y,
Copyright © David Altshuler 1980 – 2024 | Miami, FL • Charlotte, NC | (305) 978-8917 | david@davidaltshuler.com
