My dad and me.
Toward the end of his life, one of my heroes, George Bernard Shaw, was asked what person in history he would most like to have been. His response was that he would most like to have been the George Bernard Shaw he might have been, and never became.
Like . . . → Read More: Remembering Bob-Daddy
I have unclean thoughts about Mr. Rogers.
I’m not kidding, or trying to be cute. (Who in their right mind would think wanting to mount Mr. Rogers is “adorable”?)
I’d like to say it started when I was a little girl, but I’d be lying. Sure, I loved Mr. Rogers back then — and . . . → Read More: My Perverted Feelings for Mr. Rogers
I didn’t think I’d ever be married, and I doubt anyone else did either.
First, I am what people generously term, “a character.” (I don’t think I am, but maybe that’s the point.) Also, when you’re pushing fifty, live with 2 dogs and 4 parrots, your chances at finding Mr. Right, Mr. Asperger’s, or . . . → Read More: I Didn’t Want to Give Up, SO I Gave Up: How I Found My Husband