Voting with Integrity

I'm through voting for the lesser of two evils. Throughout my 33-year voting history, casting ballots for presidents, governors, senators, mayors, city council people, only three of the hundreds of candidates I've voted for—Carter, Clinton and Gore—were candidates I actually believed in. The rest were merely the lesser of two evils....more

Macaroni Pie

Today's Scranton Times-Tribune ran a recipe for Macaroni Pie. Here's a partial list of the ingredients: 1 DOZEN eggs, 1 QUART whole milk, 2 cups of sugar, a box of spaghetti noodles. When sugar is the healthiest ingredient in a recipe, that is, to me, profoundly scary....more

Traveling abroad with your dog

The French love dogs. At least that's what I decided after viewing the final episode of “Sex and the City,” where Carrie, sitting in a café, glances over at the diner seated next to her—an enormous bull mastiff. So, when the opportunity arose to spend two months on the Côte d’Azure with a side trip to Paris for work, I decided to bring my shih-tzu, Jersey, with me. We flew Continental—our favorite airline—to Paris, where we were scheduled to switch to Air France for the flight to Nice.Jersey on the Riveria....more
This article made me smile because I also take my dog everywhere with me--even overseas--and I, ...more

Dispatches from the Borderline: Boundaries

I'm having a good day, nothing but good news from my accountant, my new client and a prospective client (I run an editorial services/copywriting business). It's a picture perfect August day in South Jersey, where I'm visiting a college friend in her lakefront home surrounded by lush greenery. Her cockapoo, Gracie, is sitting on my lap. It doesn't get much more serene than this. And still, I'm filled with anxiety....more

Life on the Borderline

Like many in my generation—I’m 50 years old—I grew up in a home that was wildly unpredictable. My mother could seem attentive, even loving, at one moment, and fly into a rage over something as trivial as my leaving my handbag on the kitchen table the next. Much of my mother’s wrath was aimed at my father. She picked fights, shrieking obscenity-laced accusations and demands, and when that didn’t work, grew stonily silent until her next explosion. My father dealt with my mother’s baffling behavior by walking out the door for a day, a night, a week, at which point my mother would then turn her anger towards me. As a child, unfortunately, I didn’t have the option of leaving....more
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