I’m a word guy. I read, I write, I edit. I’ve grown up with books. I loved The Hardy Boy books, and read a flock of them. (Flock of books? Bevy? Gaggle?) But I don’t read books anymore, because …
Andy McPhee
Author, writer, former publisher, retired RN
The questions here are from the second questionnaire he developed, the one when he was 20. I thought it might be a fun exercise.
I have been writing now — officially, professionally, occasionally happily — for 35 years, and I don’t believe I have ever, until now, committed to paper exactly why. So, let’s have at it. I write to…
Just a few days later I was presented, apparently by cosmic fate, two items that have given me a new perspective on how Facebook and other social media have helped to make compromise nearly impossible and how I, in turn, could make my role in protesting obscene policies more effective, rational, and humane.
I know virtually nothing except that I can identify a wide variety of women’s shoes. (Slingbacks, kitten heels, open-toed pumps — don’t even get me started.) We dutifully watched the 90th Oscars last night, and I give you now my best-ofs in my own categories.
After numerous tests and bunches of conversations with my wife that went something like this: Her: Could you let the dog in? Me: What? Her: For God’s sake, GET HEARING AIDS! I finally went and did just that. I went to a wonderful audiologist, Dr. Holli Lish at the Audiology & Hearing Aid Center in Warminster…
To his friends, co-workers, and extended family, my father was friendly, even gregarious, charming, polite, and an intelligent conversationalist. To his children, though, all six of us, my father was, well, kind of a dick. Sometimes he could be a mean dick, sometimes a sarcastic dick, always an impossible-to-please, self-important dick. You didn’t have so […]
