Category: Parenting

Have you also been giving some thought to Ivan Danailov? To review, Ivan Danailov allegedly carved his initials into the Colosseum. You may have read about Ivan Danailov in The New York Times. Ivan Danailov’s defense, such as it was, was that he didn’t know the Coliseum was old. “I

Insanity is genetic, I am told. Craziness is inherited from our children. That our kids can discombobulate us as much as we befuddlize them is not news. Nor is the fact that our progeny inherit our best and our worst qualities. Like madness, apprehension, uncertainty, and unease can roll both

From Aaron Sorkin’s The West Wing: A doctor passes by and the guy shouts up, “Hey you! Can you help me out?” The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole, and moves on. Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts up, “Father, I’m down in

I can’t get no satisfaction suggested a 20-something-year-old in 1964. Subsequently, he has sold any number of records–something to be said for that surely–but what makes us think that our purpose going forward is about self actualization? Has the singer been satisfied subsequently? I would not presume to guess.  I

Atoms can not be trusted, suggests one of my favorite Dad Jokes. Because they make up everything. Atoms also make up the smallest units of matter—overlooking “quarks” which are both harder to spell and more difficult to wrap my head around—up, down, charm? Give me a break. Democritus came up

One of these things is not like the others, One of these things just doesn’t belong. Hank Aaron, arguably the greatest baseball player of all time Joan Benoit, arguably the greatest marathon runner of all time Tom Brady, arguably the greatest football player of all time Nadia Comaneci, arguably the

It is not clear who first remarked that the stone age did not end for want of stones. I doubt I am the first to observe that Robot Writing—sometimes referred to as ChatGPT—does not presage the demise of first year composition classes or indeed the passing of carbon-based life forms

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