Tag: Life

  • Short Story Review: “Family Lore” by Téa Obreht

    (The short story “Family Lore” by Téa Obreht appeared in the November 9th, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Tabby Booth

    I have been trying to find the source of this quote, and I believe that either Edward Albee or David Mamet said it, but it goes something like this: All modern drama revolves around the idea of deception, or characters hiding the truth from each other. (I do know that characters deceiving each other is like 99% of all the plots for situation comedies.) This dramatic device makes total sense; a character wants something, so they lie to others to achieve their goal. And there is another element, which is the penalty that will occur if the lie or deception is exposed. This is the risk, which frames how powerful the character’s want is, but it also shows what will happen if the lie falls apart, which you know, creates peril and more importantly, drama. It’s a simple device, and in regard to Téa Obreht’s “Family Lore,” a device whose execution in this story was fumbled, leaving the story on flimsy legs.

    “Family Lore” does play a bit like a sit-com. It’s the story of a family returning from the hospital with their new born baby. The husband bumbles his way through issues, trying to solve them as best as he can, all the while trying to keep these issues from his wife. At first, he struggles at finding an inconsequential baby hat that he lost, but then it gets more complicated when he tries to recover a bat, that may have bitten his dog, so he can send it to Animal Protection to test for rabies. See, a rather sit-com like premise, which implies opportunities for complications and comedy. Yet, the husband’s motivations are never solidly concrete in the story. You could make assumptions about his motivation, but as far as I could tell, there was only one line in the third paragraph of the piece; “But his job was to keep the world at bay.” And this line was regarding the husband trying to keep the wife calm when things go bad. Sure, it works as his motivation, but it’s flimsy. I have to say that this is an example of why a writer should “show” and not “tell” the reader. As in, what happens when the wife gets upset? Did it happen in the past, and if so, what was the outcome? How did that outcome affect the husband, let alone the relationship between the two? Obreht does “show” other situations with characters, the neighbors for example, which explain why the husband treats them the way he does. So, I am confused why this fundamental motivation of the story is resigned to just one line.

    This flimsy motivation choice by Obreht does have a ripple effect as the story progresses. As the stakes get raised in the story, and the husband stumbles into more and more lies, I began to question why he was doing this to himself? I understood the lies toward the downstairs neighbor, but why was he lying to Animal Protection, or the upstairs neighbor, or the party goers, and especially his wife. It appeared that if he told the truth to these people, he would have gotten what he wanted easier. It started to build a resentment, and a frustration in me toward the husband. Honestly, if he picked up his phone and told his wife everything, I think it would have solved his problems with a minimum of effort. So, why was he lying?

    It’s as if “Family Lore” was almost there as a story. Which is too bad, because I don’t think The New Yorker publishes very many humorous stories. And it did have all the pieces to be a good one; it was building toward something, I enjoyed how the piece ended, and most importantly, it was funny. It reminds me of another old adage when it comes to a character dealing with a situation that keeps getting more and more out of control; for it all to work, the audience has to understand that the character fully believes that they will still succeed. When you can’t figure out why a character is doing what they’re doing, it’s hard to have confidence that their success is even important.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Candy, Costumes, and Halloween

    (I did a lot of foolish things, that I really didn’t mean…)

    It’s candy season, and have you seen the price of candy? (Honestly…) Sure we have, and that is why I am very excited for the amazingly huge haul of candy that my daughter is about to bring home in the next twenty-four hours. (And here comes diabeetus…) There is no way on God’s green earth that my kid is going to eat a bucket of candy, and as a decently responsible parent, I should not allow my kid to eat a bucketful of candy. Which means the wife and I will slowly eat candy out of her bucket for the next few weeks. Which will be all the candy she hates. I just once she’d leave me a roll of Sprees, or some chewy Sweettarts. A Rollo would be cool. Some of those mini Crackle bars hit the spot.

    We have a family theme this year, and it’s Gilmore Girls. The wife and daughter will be Lorelai and Rory, andI get to finish out the look by going as Luke. I am happy to do this, not only because it makes my wife and daughter very happy, but because this might be the easiest costume I have ever had to wear. I just went to my closet, and got a pair of jeans, thermal shirt, flannel shirt, grabbed my army coat, and turned the navy ball cap I always wear around, and Boom! I’m dressed up as Luke.

    Happy Halloween, ya’ll! Don’t do anything too crazy. Have fun with the kids, drive slow, and give Friday the 13th: Part 3 a watch. It’s not a good movie, but it is a fun movie. And it’s the movie where Jason gets his hockey mask from the guy named Shelly. That’s important to remember, because one of you will be at a Halloween trivia night, and that question will come up.

  • Running with My Kid

    I am not a fan of working out, but I understand the need. As a person with a wife and child, I want to spend as much time with them as possible, hence why I try to work out. Not that I am good at it, or even good with keeping the schedule of working out, which leads me to say that, though I may not be “in” shape, I most certainly am not “out” of shape.

    My daughter used to play soccer, which would practice three days a week, and play one game on the weekend. Sadly, she got burned out on the sport, and has been without a physical activity since June. Not one to sit around and do nothing, the kid asked me if we could take up jogging together.

    I am not one to discourage my child, and feel that one of my primary responsibilities is to support my child on whatever endeavor she wishes to pursue. So, of course, I said yes to her request, and we planned on jogging around our local park, two days a week to start with. You know, see how we feel about it.

    The kid loves it.

    It’s been painful for me.

    My knees have been hurting, along with my left foot, and I have been waking up in the morning with a sore right hip. But the worst part, by far, is how clearly running with my kid has shown that I might, in fact, be closer to “out” of shape, rather than “in.” I can only run so long before my lungs start burning, and my muscles feel weak and rubbery. I even noticed that the kid is slightly annoyed at how slow I run, and has started just running way in front of me, and waiting for me to catch up with her.

    I keep telling her that I will get up to her speed, but it’s just going to take me some time. I gotta practice and get my old body back into the swing of running.

    “Sure, dad.” She says to me. “Sure.”

  • ODDS and ENDS: Friday, Saturday and Sunday

    (Thursday I don’t care about you…)

    Friday is just okay in my book. When I was working full time, and had a career and everything, I did look forward to Fridays. When I was performing, Friday was always a show, which usually led to a late night with the cast – either at the theatre or at a bar. Now, Friday is the final day of chores for the family. If I do have time for myself, it’s at the end of the day. Friday night to Saturday morning is my chance to catch up on bad movies and tv. There’s no rest on a Friday.

    This coming Saturday we are heading out to get our pumpkin for Halloween. We have given up on carving a pumpkin, as no one in our house really likes doing it. Well… no one likes cleaning out the pumpkin of its guts. Two years ago, we painted a pumpkin, and last year, we just had one that we left on the bookshelf… Not the most exciting, I will admit. This year, we are getting more than one pumpkin – maybe even a fancy pumpkin that is a different color than orange. Could even have those weird pimple bumps on it. What I can tell, and even feel, is that we are in the middle of a transition when it comes to Halloween in our home. It’s not so much kid and trick or treating centric anymore. We are moving towards more of an Autumnal celebration. I’m not sad about it, the kid is getting older, and at some point everything does change.

    Sunday is the night for disappointment! Talking about the Dallas Cowboys here. Yeah… I know they aren’t out of it, as the NFC East is just a dumping ground. No, I’m not looking forward to sitting through three hours of them sucking. And it is the defense that sucks, which will make the whole time just painful. Good thing the Knicks are about to start playing.

  • Short Story Review: “Chuck Murphy’s Last Run” by Kevin Barry

    (The short story “Chuck Murphy’s Last Run” by Kevin Barry appeared in the October 19th, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    (Illustration by Thomas Colligan; Source photograph from Getty)

    Just about nobody likes getting older. The exception in my life is my kid, who looks forward to every birthday, with the adding another digit to her age. For the rest of us, at some point a switch is flipped, and getting older is something that is dreaded rather than celebrated. Kevin Barry’s story “Chuck Murphy’s Last Run” takes a stab at this predicament, using a group of aging Irish friends, who all belong in a quasi-biker gang, as they journey to send off their mutual friend who recently died.

    The story begins with a solid first paragraph, establishing that what will follow will be humorous as it tackles a somber situation. This approach worked well for the story, which was a very competent piece of writing. Nothing got too serious, as Barry would slip in a joke or two to break any building tension. Motivations were understood, and the interplay between characters felt honest. In all, the story moved at solid clip.

    Yet, nothing happened in this story that wasn’t predictable. You knew they were going to make it to their destination, you knew they were going to say goodbye to their friend, you knew people in the group were going to have an argument, and you knew the main character was going to learn that life was changing, again. This is the reason why I used the word competent to describe this story, because that’s what it was. I could diagram out this story, it was so well constructed. I wouldn’t call it paint by numbers, but it might be two steps away from that.

    What “Chuck Murphy’s Last Run” felt like was a piece of store-bought cake. Sometimes you just want a spongy, sweet piece of cake that hits the spot. It’s a good piece of cake, but five minutes later, you’ve already forgotten about it.