Holiday Hyperlink
Every now and then I get an opportunity to write a story about an American family trying to find their way in this world. Under the pseudonym Rascal M, of course.
Every now and then I get an opportunity to write a story about an American family trying to find their way in this world. Under the pseudonym Rascal M, of course.
This Thanksgiving I am thankful that 36 years ago Rick Springfield released “Don’t Talk to Strangers.” This gave me all the more reason to talk to statues. Which is what I did last month when I was writing this story for a client.
The street vendor on Literary Road sold three things: hot dogs, Lay’s potato chips and Pepsi-Cola. Four if you counted lively conversation, five if you had the privilege of listening to his radio when Indians games were on. The last two were free as long as you bought one of the first three. In May…
The most compelling pizza box in Cleveland has traveled every square inch of my hometown for 40 years. It’s been seen on both sides of the Cuyahoga River. It holds honorary degrees from John Carroll, Case Western and Cleveland State. I had the opportunity to sit down with the most compelling pizza box in Cleveland…
It doesn’t matter if it’s Christmas or Valentine’s Day. My wife and I love pizza. We especially like Rascal House pizza in Cleveland, Ohio. Check out the latest story I wrote for them here When The Moon Hits Your Eye Like A Rascal House Pie, That’s Amore! Thanks for reading.
Even though Eunice was not quite two she had already had her share of meaningful conversations with imaginary friends. My wife, a victim of last minute gift wrapping, was fast asleep in our bedroom. Eunice was playing in the living room amid a pile of books, stuffed animals and unopened presents. The Christmas tree, dressed…
I loved purple crayons when I was a kid. Loved every shade of them. Loved the way they smelled, even though all crayons smell the same. My brother and I colored pictures in the living room. He made sure to use all of the crayons evenly so one wouldn’t wear out more than the others. […]
Twenty Thanksgivings ago I wrote my first article for a newspaper. I called it “Thanksgiving is a Holiday That Needs to Grow on You.” It was 1997. My wife, Joyce, and I lived in a little apartment with our baby girl in the Old Brooklyn neighborhood of Cleveland. I was reacquainted with the story while…
Two men in paper hats clink mugs together before downing their milkshakes. “Today was some day, huh?” “You got that right.” “Still like working here, Nick?” “What’s not to like. I’m surrounded by food and nice people. You?” “I don’t know, Nick. I’ve been here 17 years. Do you realize I have never taken a…
I loved purple crayons when I was a kid. Loved every shade of them. Loved the way they smelled, even though all crayons smell the same. My brother and I colored pictures in the living room. He made sure to use all of the crayons evenly so one wouldn’t wear out more than the others.…
The street vendor on Literary Road sold three things: hot dogs, Lay’s potato chips and Pepsi-Cola. Four if you counted lively conversation, five if you had the privilege of listening to his radio when Indians games were on. The last two were free as long as you bought one of the first three. In May…
I don’t always eat pizza, but when I do, I like to eat at one of the most interesting places in the world.