Category: Life

  • ODDS and ENDS: Who Are These People?, I Have Hope Again, and NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament

    ODDS and ENDS: Who Are These People?, I Have Hope Again, and NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament

    (Of course you’re not shy…)

    I don’t spend much time on Facebook anymore, ever since my nieces and nephews told me that only old people go on that site. As I am clearly not an old person, I have stayed away from Facebook. Except for the daily check in I do, because I need to check in and see what the other old people are up to. There is a section on Facebook I generally skip over and it’s the “People You May Know” part. Today, I decided to flip though it to see if I might know any of them. And I get what the algorithm is trying to do, which is connect people to me that my other “friends” know, so inherently, most of these people I won’t know. But, going through the list, I started to play the game of “Do I know this person, because they look familiar?” I would see a face, then ask myself, did I take a class with this person in college? Or, did I do a show with this person? Or, did I work with this person? Honestly, I can’t remember anymore, which made me feel old. Which is fitting as only old people go on Facebook.

    Stupid Tottenham Hotspur on Wednesday went on beat Atlético Madrid at Tottenham. Sure, they did lose the on aggregate and are out of the Champions League now, but they won a match at home. And the whole team looked like they gave a shit. Which now means that they went out and gave all of us supports the feeling that hope was alive. That on Sunday when they face off against Nottingham Forest, another team fighting not to be relegated, that we have a Spurs team to root for. A team that doesn’t want to be embarrassed. A team that is willing to dig deep and fight to the final whistle. And just when I had written the club off, now I have to go back to caring again.

    Oh, my bracket is shot to hell. Not awful, but I did make some really bad picks. My problem with making a bracket for the tournament is that I will always pick the underdog. Sometimes it works out really well, making it look like I knew something that everyone else didn’t. Like how I picked TCU, VCU, Texas A&M, Texas, and Saint Louis. Of the first 16 games, I had picked 7 upsets. Maybe not the most logical system for picking winners, but I can’t deny who I am. I like giant killers.

  • Earworm Wednesday: It’s That Song From That Cartoon!

    I will admit that “Me and My Arrow” by Harry Nilsson re-entered my life this week due to a Spotify generated playlist, not from my own music knowledge. And if you don’t know, this song is part of a cartoon that Nilsson created and wrote in 1970 called The Point! I remember seeing it on cable, sometime in the 80’s, and what stuck with me about the show was the wise man, or dude, who tells the hero that, “not having a point, is a point.” That little piece of philosophical logic has stuck with me my whole life.

    As to the song, “Me and My Arrow,” when I heard it this week, it struck me as familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I had to look it up, and I think where I truly remember it from is an episode of The Simpsons that used it. But when I read it was from the cartoon The Point!, then it all came back to me. Just a little gem of my childhood. And I had no idea that the great Harry Nilsson was responsible for it all.

    Oh, and what just stuck in my head is the whole thing. I’ve been humming it all week.

  • Where Did That Come From? Aliens?

    I got a little tiny cut on the knuckle of my left ring finger, right above my wedding ring. It is a tiny little cut, barely there, but there enough to let me know that there is a tiny little cut on that finger. The perplexing part of this injury is that I have no idea how I received it. I just know that when I was walking home from parking the car this morning, I felt it on my hand.

    I didn’t come in contact with anything sharp as I completed the task of moving the car. Yet I know that I didn’t have it when I left the apartment, or at least I know that I wasn’t being annoyed by a tiny cut when I left home.

    This isn’t the first time of late that I have discovered some sort of injury on my body that I have no idea where it came from. Most of the time, I chock it up to playing around with the kid. I had a small bruise on my arm once that was a total mystery. A little scrap on my knee I discovered over the winter – when I had been wearing pants every day.

    Am I getting to the age when I forget things, or becoming so numb that I just don’t notice when something hits me?

    Even though this situation is nothing like the example I am about to give, but what this reminds me of is people being abducted by aliens, and the weird cut and bumps they discover after their encounters. Maybe that’s what’s happening to me?

    Or, what if I am being abducted by aliens, and I’m losing time in all, but what if the aliens are really clumsy with people? Like they have trouble keeping humans walking in a straight line, and the people walk into doors or walls? Or the aliens drop instruments on people. Not all the time, but accidents are known to happen, right?

    And then, what if these aliens got written warnings and bad performance reviews, and they lost their jobs abducting and probing people because of their sloppy work ethic?

    Then there is some alien sitting in a bar back on his home planet, getting drunk and bitching to his friend how his boss was a total dick, and he was set up to fail because his boss never offered any help or guidance, even when he asked for it. Then that alien goes on to tell his friend that his boss is totally screwed now because he was the one that kept the whole abducting and probing operation working, and it’s going to take them months to get everything back on track because that alien was the one who knew how everything worked.

    But then the alien’s friend tells him that the abducting/probing job wasn’t that great of a job anyway. They order another round, and talk about starting their own abducting/probing company if only they could get the money together.

    Or maybe I cut my finger on a sharp key on my key chain when I reached into my pocket.

    Maybe.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Weather Talk, We Don’t Talk About Tottenham, Brackets, and Walking Around NYC

    (Hey! Who said that?)

    Hey! What I find amazing is that on Monday, it was 80 degrees, and yesterday it was snowing. This is the world we all live in now. What was happening a few days ago is no guarantee that it will continue happening. And as I get older, I should talk about older people things, like the weather, and how its not the heat but the humidity.

    I don’t want to talk about Tottenham anymore…

    It’s NCAA Tournament Time! I downloaded my bracket app to my phone so I can make some stupidly wild brackets that have no chance in hell in being correct. As always, I will pick a #15 team to defeat a #2, and I will pick the Ivy League team over whoever they are playing against. Amazingly, I have a very high success rate when it comes to these picks. Anyway, I plan on watching the tournament until the Elite 8, because at that point it’s just the big schools left, and the “upset” excitement is pretty much over. Hopefully, this year might be different. Maybe there is a #7 or #11 school out there that could make it to the Final Four. Hopefully.

    I still love to walk around my City. I went out to Midtown today. Had to run an errand down there, but it’s never stopped being fun to just walk around and watch people and see stuff. It’s also fun to see how much neighborhoods can change in a year or two.

  • Short Story Review: “The City is a Graveyard” by Addie Citchens

    (The short story Short Story Review: “The City is a Graveyard” by Addie Citchens appeared in the March 16th, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Photograph by Nydia Blas

    There are many things that I enjoyed about Addie Citchens’ “The City is a Graveyard,” but the one I found most enigmatic was how every time the protagonist first mentions a man in her life, she lists his Zodiac sign. What made this so interesting to me was that this was a story about her existential existence, yet these men were beings of Zodiac influence. A fascinating dualism, creating a song that I could see Apollo and Dionysus dancing to.

    Another aspect of this story was Citchens’ use of second person narrative. The use of this style can create an immediate feeling of immersion for the reader, forcing us to embody the protagonist. Yet, in this story, I don’t feel that was the intended use. The “you” is in fact the protagonist speaking to herself, attempting to objectively examine these specific events from her life. I came to this conclusion because near the end of the story, when a man approaches her while she is sitting on a bench, he says to her, “I been watching you sit on this bench talking to yourself.” The story is the protagonist dialogue with herself. I could be wrong, I doubt it, because isn’t that how we talk to ourselves in our minds? “What were you thinking” “Why would you do that?” Well… I do anyway… For me, it creates an honesty and authenticity in the protagonist.

    Because this is a story about the protagonist being honest to herself about the decision and choices she made in her life especially when it came to intimacy, pregnancy and abortion. Some were planned, some weren’t, but each were different and affected the protagonist in different ways. Citchens’ presents us with a protagonist who is complicated, not easy to define, maybe a little messy in her life (who isn’t) but this is a character who is fully well rounded in three dimensions. In essence, she’s might be conflicted on how to feel about herself, and the decisions that she’s made, but in the end, the decisions are hers.

    I am leaving lots, and I mean lots, of details out of this story, as I don’t want to ruin how the story is built, and the way the climax unfolds on a bench. I do want to add that there is another character in this piece, which is the city of New Orleans. Not only the climate of the place (hot, humid, sticky) or the tourists everywhere, but the music, and the history of that place. Citchens’ uses, for lack of a better phrase, subtle notes in the narrative on how this location is essential in the telling of this story. New Orleans is a place where the ghosts of the past are never out of sight, but it is also a place of possibility, where a future can always been seen.