Tag Archives: 1960s

Facial Profiling?

When I was in junior high school in the 1960s chains were really cool. All the tough guys liked to wear leather and have some type of silver chain hanging down out of their jeans pocket; you know, like the … Continue reading

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Helicopter vs. Free-Range Parenting

I recently listened to a National Public Radio interview where the miseries caused by “helicopter parenting” were enumerated. The discussion featured a prominent scholar/author on the subject, as well as a Kennesaw State University counselor. It was quite interesting. Evidently, … Continue reading

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Check Under the Hood?

When I was a young boy in the 1950s and early 60s we still had full service filling stations (that’s what we called gas stations, in case you didn’t know). And each time someone drove up and parked beside the … Continue reading

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The Corvette Stingray: A Love Story

It’s hard to tell where my taste for certain foods originated; why grilled hamburgers are so absolutely wonderful, why ice cream cries out to be enjoyed by the bowl full, why good coffee sometimes just hits the spot. But my … Continue reading

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Not Until You Say “Uncle”

It was just a phrase that children used to say in a wrestling match when one child would get the upper hand; the beaten child would have to say “uncle” in order to be released from the debilitating grasp of … Continue reading

Posted in Aging Parents, Assisted Living, Family History, Fathers, Nursing Homes, Stories, Uncategorized, World War II | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 10 Comments

Saving Mr. Banks (Authentic Identification)

In the late afternoon of March 28, 2009 I was traveling down a rainy street in my 2000 Chevy Metro when a young girl armed with a learner’s permit turned in front of me, causing me to hit her just … Continue reading

Posted in Aging Parents, Family History, Fathers, Stories, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

Waiting

I am sitting in a surgical waiting room at Piedmont Hospital in midtown Atlanta, Georgia. The room was designed for waiting. And that is what I am doing. Waiting. I am waiting along with a host of strangers. An adjoining … Continue reading

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