I Was a Teenage Honda

My car, Sylvie, is a ripe eleven years old. For the most part, she is a sweet and docile southern lady, with just the right amount of spice to accelerate across three lanes of traffic should the need arise. I used to assume that car years translated to human years at approximately (C)(5.562) = (H).Continue reading “I Was a Teenage Honda”

But I Want One!

“But, Mom, I want one!” “I know, sweetheart, but with big things like this, it’s important to wait until the right time, and your dad and I don’t think you’re ready yet.” “But everyone else already has one!” “Just because your friends are doing something doesn’t mean you need to do it. If everyone elseContinue reading “But I Want One!”

I Lied About the Vertigo

Road trips abound in opportunities to contemplate identity.  The right music helps: Antje Duvekot’s “Vertigo”, John Gorka’s “Broken Place,” and Sarah Jarosz’s “Edge of a Dream.” “oh the view from this heighthigh above the ferriswheel lightsmight cause me to swaybut i am teaching myself to be brave” “That beautiful broken place you could not outshineContinue reading “I Lied About the Vertigo”