There's so much in Heidi Schreck’s wise, witty, profound play, What the Constitution Means to Me that resonates but an anecdote touching on an encounter with a young man during her college days struck a particular chord. They were saying good-night and the question of sex entered the picture. More … [Read more...] about The personal/the political
The writing on the wall
My mother’s birthday was a few days ago. She would have turned 92. Birthdays, holidays, sentimental moments make us think of beloved people gone from our lives. But today she’s on my mind mostly because of something she said more than once. On almost any night of the week our tiny … [Read more...] about The writing on the wall
Why I love my daughter
I count it among one of life’s gifts to have a daughter who enjoys doing things with me. Rock concerts. Hiking when we’re on vacation (even if she leaves me in the dust). Shopping. Enjoying the sights and streets of NYC when she comes back East. But it’s something else, as deep in what it says … [Read more...] about Why I love my daughter
Nemo and Bambi and all the rest of us
If there’s a thread to my latest blog posts, I have nothing but that mysterious thing we call the unconscious to blame (maybe ‘credit’ is a better word than blame). The other night I watched Finding Nemo, a refresher of sorts to get me ready for Finding Dory. Like all movies I’ve seen before, … [Read more...] about Nemo and Bambi and all the rest of us
Fiction Facebook Friendship
Tap your heels together three times, Dorothy. You always had the power. To go home. These days find me longing for some kind of yesterday. Can't say I loved high school (who really does?) but I can say I remember being enthralled by a book I was supposed to hate if for no other reason than … [Read more...] about Fiction Facebook Friendship
Talk less, say more
I have a dream . . . in which I’m sitting at a kitchen table with my cousins—very close cousins, whom I love dearly—and we’re reminiscing, schmoozing, laughing about old times at another kitchen table, in a small Brooklyn apartment, as mythical as it was real. We tease each other about the kids we … [Read more...] about Talk less, say more