A recent Economist article suggests that American men come up short when it comes to friends, guy friends specifically. American heroes ride solo. Think Gary Cooper in High Noon, Jack Reacher, Spider Man, The Hulk, or Cleatus, the Fox Sports animatronic figure with laser eyeballs.
This is where the foot rubbing mentioned in my last post occurs. Many readers have inquired if they can bring their feet to the couch to get in on the action. Sorry, but my contract, annually renewed, is with My Life’s Editor. At our age, other than TV watching, foot rubbing is about all thatContinue reading “The Couch Chronicles”
Last night My Life’s Editor and I settled into our couch in our TV room to watch Mr. Djokovic play Mr. Zverev in the US Open semi-final. I sat back, she laid out lengthwise on the couch and plopped her feet on my lap, in foot rub mode. Foot rubs get my contract renewed eachContinue reading “Unplug and Reboot”
I backed My Life’s Editor’s molten orange CRV into a post yesterday in St. Augustine. The good news is the boxes with cupcakes and brownies from the Casa de Sueños B&B survived undamaged. My justification for backing into the post was that herself had brought up a map on the “Driver Information Interface” screen, ratherContinue reading “Another Trip, Another time”
Five years ago, My Life’s Editor and I unloaded half our books and all our brown furniture (rejected by kids and consignment shops) and moved into a condo in the beating heart of St. Pete. “So, how do you like living, ah, downtown?” a friend asks, dubious, as if he meant to say, “How doContinue reading ““Downtown, Everything’s waiting for you””