Can you imagine? A gentle reader suggested to this author recently that I am harsh and–gasp!–judgmental. My thoughtful critic went on to say that I give advice (if I remember correctly, the word “pontificate” was bandied about like undergarments on a clothesline) but no solutions and that what I recommend
This column will be just as helpful without the joke—equal parts old, offensive, and terrible—in the following paragraph:Having fasted for three days waiting in the snow, the woman is told by the disciples that she may finally speak to the great guru whom she has traveled half a world to
As dedicated readers of these Tuesday newsletters are endlessly aware, I have been running with the same group of balding, paunchy, sweaty, middle-aged folks for a number of decades now. Older, slower, stiffer though we may be, our group has survived the disruption of hurricanes, the ravages of divorce, and
Last night I dreamt I was trapped at a dinner party where a woman whom I didn’t know, a pro po of nothing, addressed me as follows: “It is beyond my understanding why the fascist authorities insist on restricting my civil rights and try to forbid me from driving 70
Surely there are enough intrusions into the privacy of your bedroom without my asking yet another boundary crossing question. No reality TV for me, thank you very much. My own life-with which I can barely keep up-entertains me just nicely; I can’t imagine trying to stay abreast of what somebody
You know the guy I’m talking about. If you have ever driven a car in Miami, you have seen this guy repeatedly. He is swerving in and out of traffic, changing lanes without using his turn signal. On a given day, rather than wait, he will abandon the main arteries,
“That’s horrible,” Janet interrupted. “What’s the point of having children if you’re just going to send them away to boarding school?” Lynn, who had been talking about attending boarding school as a child fell silent as Janet continued: “I would never send my kids to boarding school.” It was clear
I am determined to seduce and marry Veronica Lake. Hear me out. She is beautiful, a movie star, and has a lot of money. I just know our lives together will be exquisite. Admittedly, she doesn’t know I’m alive nor is she aware of my undying passion or my plan
Paul returns to the off-campus apartment he shares with Nick who is, once again, slouched over the couch watching skate-boarding videos on their big screen while playing “Call of Duty” on his iPad. Paul notices, beyond the pile of empty pizza boxes and discarded beer cans, a three-foot pile of
I am not a medical professional nor do I play one on TV. I do not have a degree in psychiatry. Although I am a frequent blood donor, I still look away when the needle goes in my arm and I get queasy when my wife watches ER reruns. In
Copyright © David Altshuler 1980 – 2024 | Miami, FL • Charlotte, NC | (305) 978-8917 | [email protected]
