Free-Floating Stories+

The respirator pulsed with the trip-hammer rhythm of a base drummer pounding thoughts out of my head. Just as well. What is there to think about at this stage? Or to talk about, as if I could, masked as I am. My wife squeezes my hand. Sandra doesn’t need words from me, as we sit … Continue reading Beyond Words

‘Pop Goes the Weasel’ blaring from the Good Humor truck trolling our neighborhood got me salivating for a popsicle. Another sound that got me running as a youngster was the single note, BLAT, of the junk man’s horn and his dreary old horse dragging a spoke-wheeled wagon through our alley. Recycling made easy. We didn’t … Continue reading Archeologists and Alley Pickers

I was waiting in the left turn lane of a four-lane road for a break in the long line of facing traffic. Destination: a gas station that charged two cents less per gallon than the station two lanes over on my right. My granddaughter looked up from her book and asked, “Why are you turning … Continue reading Old Dog…Old Tricks

I felt the need to make something, not sure what, but out of wood. I was tired of words, words, words, teaching English 101 and all the grammar, topic sentences, definitions and spelling. If I was a beaver, I would say, I needed something to sink my teeth into. So, I went to the lumber … Continue reading Wood’n Words

Welts, lumps and discolorations mysteriously appear on my body lately, and I don’t remember how they got there. For example, putting on my sock, the other day, I noticed a bruise on my shin. My daughter, Mia, helped me pinpoint its origin. Seems her toddler, Zo (aka Lorenzo), had just come out with a four-letter … Continue reading All Ears for Expletives

In the movie Rainman , Raymond Babbitt, an autistic savant, keeps obsessively repeating the Abbott and Costello "Who's on first" routine. In his disturbed mental state, he doesn't see the humor in the words. He uses the classic schtick as a kind of ritual to provide security in times of stress. His brother Charley tries … Continue reading Good Humor Is No Joke

So, here’s me jogging in the park by my house. I’m feeling good. I check out my shadow in the morning sun. Looking good too. Standing tall, arms pumping. Then a guy passes me. Walking. Well, not just strolling, kind of speed walking. Ha! I shout at the guy, “Hey buddy! Slow down, you’re messing … Continue reading Preserving Self-Image

The phone rings at the rectory. Fr. Cuomo: Good afternoon. St. Peter’s. Mrs. Cuomo: Franky, how you doing? Fr. Cuomo: Ma, when you call me Franky I know you want something. Mrs. Cuomo: What? You want me to call my son the Reverend Father Francis Cuomo? Fr. Cuomo: What’s up? Mrs. Cuomo: My cousin Tony… … Continue reading I No Killa Nobody

I’ve seen her walk by my beach lately. Probably a neighbor. Not many Lake Michigan regulars after Labor Day. She looks like Barbie would look, thirty-five years later, with a little extra ballast to counterweight her formidable bowsprit. I don’t know if you believe me or not, but I’m not a dirty old man. I … Continue reading Barbie+