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| Laugh Again
| Adopting Paul |
| When I was a kid, smoking was good for you. “More doctors smoke Camels than any other cigarettes,” boasted a popular ad. Cigarettes were the oat bran of the sixties; they sold them in health food stores, I think. My son’s 17-year-old friend Paul smiles when I tell him this. |
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| The Last Gift |
| The older I get the more I’m convinced that memory and smell are linked. I love the smell of Christmas: Sugar cookies baking. The turkey sizzling. I love the taste of Christmas too: Mixed nuts. Mandarin oranges. Fresh dirt from one of my brother Tim’s incoming snowballs. Ah, Christmastime! |
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| About Time |
I have officially reached middle age: my age is showing around my middle. The thing about The Middle Ages is that if you have any brains left at all, you start to realize you’re running short on time to do things you vowed you’d do when you were twenty-four.
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| Day of rejoicing |
| My son Stephen has enrolled in Prairie Bible College, a decision that has his mother and me rejoicing and sniffling and clutching our wallets all at once. The price for Bible College has not decreased since I attended in the latter half of the last century, but I assured him it would not be a problem. |
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| Dying Young |
| My mother is in a nursing home and the doctor just gave her six months to live. But when he found out she couldn’t pay her bill, he gave her another year. Last night after spending some time with her, the thought hit me, If I stay in peak physical condition, I will live long enough to be a drain on the medical system. And so I have uncovered three ways to ensure this does not happen. |
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| From Hollywood to Iowa |
| Back when our kids wanted to travel in the same car as their parents, we journeyed three days to get to Hidden Acres Camp in Iowa where I was to speak. I’ve discovered that the best way for a speaker to gain credibility at family camp is to leave his children at home, but ours have always come along. And I think it’s been comforting to other parents to watch our children misbehave. |
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| Aging Grace |
| Let me ask you a question. It’s been on my mind since a friend asked it during our bi-weekly gathering of the Circle of Six. If you haven’t heard of us yet, allow me to explain that we are six handsome, middle-aged men who get together every other Wednesday to sample chocolate cheesecakes and consider deep questions such as, “If you can’t see your feet while standing up, should you go on a diet?” |
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| A matter of life and debt |
| Some time ago my wife and I sat down at the dining room table to figure out how we were doing financially. Our net was looking pretty gross, so I said, “You know, the bank will lend us enough money to get us completely out of debt.” |
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| Eight Things I Used to Hate About You |
| Six months before my wedding day an older man tapped my shoulder in the post office and offered some free advice. “Ramona’s a lovely girl who deserves a good husband,” he said. “Marry her before she finds one.” |
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| Dinner’s Done Call 911 |
| On my refrigerator are pictures of friends and family and animals and one of my dad falling off a chair laughing. There are magnets, too. Imitation cabbages, cauliflowers, bittermelons, and pumpkins—all fitting the decor of the kitchen. The dieter’s favorite Bible verse is there: “He must increase, but I must decrease.” Here are a few of my favorite fridge magnets: |
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