My Life As A Hobby

Before smartphones, GPS, and reclining seats, teenagers had a Camaro, an 8-track, and a quiet country road. If you ask people my age about parking, they are likely to respond, “What kind? Parallel? Angle? Backing in? Perhaps they will talk about some neer- do-well who pulled in a spot crooked, making them feel like a human tube of toothpaste as they tried to squeeze out of their car.  However, some of us have forgotten about another kind of parking. The type of parking that was not an adjective, but more like a noun. The kind you did in a car, not with a car.  It was the kind of parking we did as high school kids on a Friday or Saturday night. The kind of parking we used to do between the end of the movie and taking your date home. The kind that would elicit a question from your friends like,“Hey, did ya’ll go parking last night?”   Parking was an integral part of the dating ritual during my high school years. It involved finding an out-of-the-way road, pulling ove...

  I still remember when my son gingerly placed my first newborn granddaughter in my arms. Well…he tried to. Just as I reached out to hold her for the first time, a woman in a dark business suit carrying a clipboard and an air of authority stepped between me and the newest member of my family. “Before you take possession of your grandchild, sir, you’ll need to review and sign this document.” “Sign? What am I signing?” This was a baby, not an extended warranty on a Buick. “The Grandparent Contract. I realize you haven’t done this before, but it’s standard procedure nowadays. Just makes things easier for everyone.” She handed me a document that appeared to contain more legalese than a rental car agreement. I began skimming the highlights. Section 1: Rule Enforcement The Grandparent acknowledges that all rules established by the parents shall remain in effect. However, the Grandparent retains emergency powers, including authorizing cookies before supper, extending bedtimes, an...

Recently, a group of us gathered at an empty floor of an office building.  There were people from all walks of life: attorneys, bankers, stockbrokers, teachers, and even an old writer. The secret club we formed in high school still meets regularly. Actually, this sounds a lot more impressive than it is. It is not the Illuminati or Knights Templar - it ain’t even the Shriners. We met on a deserted floor of an office building, not because of secrecy, but because it was the only place we could find. In actuality, our gathering is about as exclusive as members of Sam’s Wholesale Club.  In high school, it wasn’t a group of young scholars meeting to discuss literature, poetry, or current events. Most of us weren’t exactly the Future Leaders of America. In fact, if memory serves, several members of our club spent more time getting in trouble than preparing to become productive citizens. Nevertheless, our organization has a number of distinguished alumni, most of us now in early in ou...