This young man is driving a white minivan, the kind they use to take residents of old-folks homes to the mall. A little girl is buckled in next to him, tapping her hand against the window. He puts a cell phone to his ear and begins talking. She turns from the window, leans across the space between their seats, and shakes her finger in his face. “No, no, no!” He grins, embarrassed, and hangs up.

This man is rolling a car tire up our block. His action is effortless, almost soothing to watch. He walks next to the tire, bending occasionally to give it a slight push or correct its course. The tire seems alive, like an obedient dog, until the man stops it with his foot and lifts it into the trunk of his car.

Scenario: Bryan has an interest in politics.

B: When’s the State of the Union Address?

M: Beats me.

B: Hmm. (Goes rummaging around online for several minutes.)

B: Arrgh. I can’t believe it could be this hard to find.

M: You can’t find it?

B: Nowhere.

M: Huh.

B: (Points, clicks, types for another fifteen minutes.) AAAGH! (Picks up phone, presses speaker-phone option, lets it ring as he types.)

M: Who are you calling?

B:

Phone: White House. May I help you?

Me: Man, I can’t keep my hands off these stupid things.

Her: What are they?

Me: Molasses chips, they’re like toffee.

Her: Oooo. They have dark chocolate ones too.

Me: Yep. They’re good with red wine. Pretty inexpensive too. They make great hostess gifts.

Her: Hostess gifts? You’re so

Me: I know.

Which reminds me of a joke Rosecrans sent me the other day after receiving thank-you note #601 from me:

Why don’t WASPs have orgies?

Too many thank you notes.

I contributed to the Santa Claus piece for The Morning News.

The Fray posted my “Chagrin and Men I Have Loved” piece. It’s the same one you may have already seen on The Morning News, albeit with a new introduction and a few photos of me as a kid. The first one you’ll see is a photo of me and my sister jumping from sand dunes. I’m the one standing on the dune, she’s the one leaping to her doom. If you click on my name, just below the story title, you’ll find my favorite childhood photo. I was three, and I was pissed. If you scroll down, you can see me and my junior prom date Rahul. He’s going to be an usher at our wedding. We offered him flower girl, but my niece threatened to beat him up, and he chickened out.