A woman at the table next to us muttered, “It’s disgusting,” loud enough for her kids to hear. But she was the only one in the restaurant who didn’t see the hero in the room. Last Tuesday, I took my dad to ‘The Bighorn Steakhouse.’ It’s one of those places with peanut shells on the […]
A Seat Earned: Two Soldiers, One Leash, and the Quiet Homecoming Read More »
I make $55,000 a year and I’m broker than my 75-year-old grandpa. To save myself from my $1,800-a-month studio apartment, I had to move into his basement. This wasn’t the plan. The plan was a downtown loft, happy hours, and a vibrant social life funded by my new marketing degree. Instead, I’m in suburban Ohio,
Choose on Purpose: How My Grandpa Taught Me to Stop Paying to Act Rich Read More »
My name is Eleanor Vance. I am seventy-three years old. And last April, I committed what my son—a very successful lawyer who uses words like “fiduciary duty”—called “the single most irresponsible act of senior defiance” he had ever witnessed. I told him to send me a bill for the advice. Then, I packed two suitcases,
The Turning Page: A Widow, a Bookstore, and the Second Act No One Saw Coming Read More »
My mom, Helen, called me last Tuesday. She’s 82. “Michael,” she said, her voice thin over the phone, “I need you to help me buy a new television. A big one. A ‘smart’ one.” I almost laughed. My mom still uses a boxy Magnavox from 2003. She tapes her favorite soap operas. She thinks “streaming”
She Didn’t Need a New TV… She Just Needed Me. Read More »
