My Life As A Hobby

Remember when Halloween was just for little kids? If you’re like me, you can recall going door to door wearing that lame, store-bought pirate costume you just had to have.  The one that had the slinky outfit that covered your regular clothes and was topped off by the cheap plastic mask with the frozen facial expression.   It was almost impossible to see or breathe out of that thing.   And before you went out trick or treating, your Mom made sure you put on a jacket over the entire outfit. Talk about a buzz kill.   I never saw a buccaneer wearing a windbreaker, matey. But it didn’t matter, because  you always brought back about half a pillowcase full of candy. Some of it was so chewy that you would pull out at least three fillings. I don’t know why the American Dental Association doesn’t sponsor this holiday.   Eventually, you out grew the whole Halloween thing. It became another fond childhood memory.   But times have changed. Now adults are all up in  Halloween. In fact, it’s the b

The Visitor in the Second Row I’m gonna be honest - I wasn’t sure I was going to write this because lots of you might think I’m crazy. This is not a joke, there’s no punchline at the end.  Its not a made up story to get views or likes.  It’s not a Halloween story.  It’s not anything like you would see on those stupid ghost shows on TV. I saw it as sure as I’m sitting here.  It’s an experience I’ve never had before, and I’m getting goosebumps just typing it.  Maybe it was my imagination, but it was so vivid and lasted so long that I just can’t believe my mind conjured this up.   I was happy to hear that my niece’s infant daughter was going to be christened because that meant I would be going back to my Mother’s church.  It’s a small Anglican house of worship nestled in the woods on top of a steep hill.  Mom loved that church - so much so that when she passed, they gave her a special tribute. For several years one of her Sunday best hats was placed where she always sat on the second row.

  Halloween always reminds me of some of the idiotic things we did as teenagers. And with over a half century of perspective, I can certainly say they were idiotic.   We were too old for treats, but certainly not tricks. Stuffing cherry bombs in mailboxes, rolling yards with toilet paper, and tossing water balloons   were always Halloween mainstays. Once we got creative and made a dummy we laid on the side of a busy road.   However, the perfect tool for teenage hooligans has always been the egg. They’re perfect. They fit well in the hand. The shell is strong enough to allow you to throw it long distances, and frail enough to explode on impact.  As a crusty old adult, I wonder why any grocery store would even sell eggs to a teenager on October 31 without showing an ID, a background check, and a letter from their Mom. Maybe even a 3 day waiting period would help.  About the only problem I had when buying eggs for Halloween was an occasional cashier who made me sweat a little   before she

  My wife Carol can’t cook.  Let me clarify - technically she can, but she doesn’t like to. The dishes in her culinary repertoire are basic things like scrambled eggs, green beans, and a casserole or two.   An empty foil pan at a church covered dish attests to the fact that she makes a good pecan pie. However, day to day cooking usually falls on me. And while I’m always willing to try and prepare something new, recipe is a four letter word to her.  Even so, I had no idea she could make the kitchen such a dangerous place. I learned otherwise not to long ago.  After supper we had settled in for the evening in the usual manner; she was watching some syrupy movie on her iPad while I scanned TV channels looking for the show where they finally caught Bigfoot.  Suddenly, there was a loud pop from the kitchen. Our two dogs, laying peacefully on the floor, jumped up and hi-tailed it to the bedroom like it was the Fourth of July.  Carol looked at me and said, “What in the world was that? Did som