The Reluctant Athlete
“I haven’t done this since the eighth grade, so be gentle with me.” Those were my first words to William, a personal trainer, at our first session.
“I haven’t done this since the eighth grade, so be gentle with me.” Those were my first words to William, a personal trainer, at our first session.
My brain is hardwired to the smells from my childhood. At this time of the year it is the smell of burning leaves. As early as I can remember, growing up in the Midwest and later in Pennsylvania, the smell of burning leaves told my brain that winter was coming.
This Christmas Season looks like it is going to be a lot like last year. The Pandemic lockdown has cancelled the usual activities and it feels like a total loss to everyone.
We have very few moments of enlightenment in our lives. Sometimes we do not even recognize them. For me, one of my best occurred while staring at a candy dish.
After years of searching, my wife and I stood in front of our dream home. As we looked at the house from the walkway leading to the front door our shared excitement was evident. I think we were even holding hands. This was it, finally something to commit to as a “forever home.”
Long before the internet and eBay, the only way to find vintage Valentine’s Day cards was to dig through dusty boxes at garage and estate sales. Looking for love in all the dusty places.
I am a happily married man. Yet I have a mistress. She is large, heavy and 87 years old. In fact, she looks like a house because, yes, wait for it, she is a house.