We sat in my grandpa’s garage and talked. It was a horrible event -- my grandpa’s funeral. He’d held family dinners in that garage. There were so many people that they wouldn’t fit in the house, so he set up tables out where he usually parked the cars, where he fixed musical instruments and where he kept his golf clubs. He wanted all the family together all the time. And he held the family together, even toward the end when family was splitting apart (sometimes by distance and sometimes by resistance). In his death, Grandpa brought us all back. And in his garage after the celebration of his life, we had nothing to do, nowhere to go, no smart phones to steal each other’s attention . . . We told stories about him, about our pasts, about anything. And we did it for hours. That’s everything to me. What’s everything to you?
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
Friday, May 26, 2017
Wednesday, March 22, 2017
I watched a movie. Had absolutely no idea what it was about. No idea. I went online to see what others had to say about it, to see if they understood the film and if they could explain it. Even then, these huge stretches didn’t connect with me. I asked a friend what I was missing. He didn’t get the movie either. Not at all. Not one bit at all... Ah, assurance! That’s everything to me. What’s everything to you?
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
I remember the exact moment I ushered my son into manhood. He was 7 years old. We had breakfast at a counter. Eating at a counter in a diner is like a fast pass to breakfast. There’s no waiting. You just take a seat. You never have to flag down your waiter. Someone’s always there. You sit up high. You’re right up front with all the action. You meet people you wouldn’t have met in a booth. And besides, all the cool guys in movies eat at the counter. Sometimes, life needs a meal at a counter. That’s everything to me. What’s everything to you?
Tuesday, November 15, 2016
The family that can’t decide where to go to eat for dinner is the family that stays home and has cereal together. That’s everything to me. What’s everything to you?
Saturday, November 12, 2016
You’re with friends out late on a Friday or Saturday night at a 24-hour diner, or you’re with family for the holidays or even a funeral, and you’re all taking turns telling stories. Stories that start with “One time . . .” Stories everyone in the group has experienced together and you’re remembering the incident fondly together, laughing at what you all survived. Or they’re stories that teach you a little something you didn’t know about a family member. Funny stories. Sad stories. Silly stories. You have nowhere to go. Nothing to do. You don’t want it to end. That’s everything to me. What’s everything to you?