I sincerely apologize to anyone who hoped to make a Thanksgiving dish featuring cream cheese and could not locate any at nearby grocery stores. It was all at my house. The thousands of cream cheese-driven calories I consumed…
At the risk of being excoriated by Illinois public health officials, I have just extended an invitation to my out-of-town relatives to join me for a lavish Thanksgiving feast. They can even stay through Christmas if they like, COVID-19 be…
Political campaigns have finally come to a much-needed end; and yet, no politician ever promised to rid this country of one of its most pressing nightmares: celebrities on social media announcing how they are dealing with the pandemic. Since lockdown…
Arrive for Thanksgiving wearing your scariest, most blood curdling mask. Just make sure the mouth opening is wide enough for turkey and sweet potatoes to pass through.
As the pandemic keeps the world’s workforce away from offices, working from home has become the norm. Basements, spare bedrooms and dining room tables are suddenly being relabeled the “home office” with family members jockeying for space each morning.
Recently released data from the Recording Industry Association of America showed that, for the first time in more than 30 years, vinyl albums (Google that phrase, kids) outsold CDs.
The laptop in that home school pod you eagerly set up last spring continues to hog the bandwidth you need to function at your now work-from-home job. Of course, that’s assuming you haven’t lost your job and need the bandwidth to look for another one.
For me, the quarantine began the day my wife returned from Costco, presented me with a 45-ounce container of Dunkin Donuts Medium Roast Original Blend coffee and said, “That ought to hold you.”
Had YouTube chosen July 22 to conduct “Life in a Day,” I could have wowed Macdonald with a happy birthday Facetime call I made to my 84-year-old aunt in Michigan. Yes, that was on my calendar. All by itself.
Much like first-year college students must grapple with the freshmen 15, a 15-pound weight gain typically attributed to late night pizza orders, dime beer specials and unlimited dorm cafeteria desserts, “the COVID 15” has become part of our physiques.
Since receiving it for Father’s Day many years ago, my hammock has been the source of unbridled pleasure. And naps. The hammock is that dangling carrot that awaits me after mowing my lawn in sweltering heat.
The Cambridge dictionary defines freedom as “the condition or right of being able or allowed to do, say, think, etc. whatever you want to, without being controlled or limited.” And my, oh my, are we getting good at it.
My youngest daughter is a member of the now infamous high school class of 2020; her days of carrying a lunch to school were ending this year. My wife, the chief lunch maker, and I, her faithful substitute, knew it.
2020 has already assumed its place as the worst year in modern history — even Depression-era survivors didn’t have to wear masks — so I don’t anticipate any pushback. We’ve almost made it halfway and that should be enough.
Imagine undergoing an operation and seeing not a team of medical personnel, but a lone physician staring down at you. While trying to connect to a Zoom meeting.