Meg lives in my apartment building here in Covington, and she’s a nice, older lady who is always friendly to me, and I’m always friendly right back. Sometimes I think — actually I kind of know — she would like more from me, but thankfully I don’t see her
Thishappened on one of those nice afternoons in April. I was leaving the KentonCounty Library on Scott Boulevard in Covington, Kentucky and they were comingin.
Very casually over the phone, my friend told me how he laid his Martin Guitar on the floor in his living room and in a fit of frustration and rage and with the boots on his feet, smashed his acoustic guitar into bits and pieces.
This isn’t Shari Goldhagen’s first rodeo when it comes to book signings in Cincinnati. Born and raised in the Blue Ash area, she now lives in New York.
That’s not to say I haven’t killed an animal or two in my life. I’ve had mice get into my living space and yes, I used a mousetrap or two to get rid of them.
I think the older you get, the more you put things in proper prospective, and today, in late October, I’m thinking about my life and also the people I love who have been in it.
Despite the fact that I’m getting older, I still have a pretty good memory. One day last month when walking home from the corner of happy and healthy — that’s the Walgreens in Covington, Ky. — I heard someone say, “Hello, Larry.”
Keeping up with the Kardashians isn’t about reality. It’s pureplastic, pure phony baloney. It’s rich people who have done nothing to deservethat wealth and status and who think they have real problems and issues
I decided to brave that slope with my quad cane and my old, rickety folding utility cart. I told myself Icould handle this just fine. I wastelling myself a lie.
The first Peanutstelevision special, A Charlie BrownChristmas, had been on TV the previous Christmas and that made me even moreof a fan of the strip. I couldn’t get enough of Charlie Brown and company.
There’spretty good pest control in the building where I live in Covington. I seldomever see a bug, but I did the other day — a bug hanging out in my kitchen.
My phone rang fairly late one evening during the summer of 2000. I was in bed, but my son was still up. On the phone was a nurse from the nursing home in Vevay, Indiana. My mother was staying there recuperating from knee surgery — her left knee. She had
I’vealways tried to be cordial to her, especially when I first moved into the building,but Beverly and I have never talked. In fact, she’s made it quite clear shedoesn’t like me.
OnSeptember 22, 2013, around seven o’clock in the morning, I smoked my last PallMall cigarette. It was the last one in my pack and the last one I ever intendedto inhale and exhale. I was going to give up tobacco for good.