How to Complain When There's Nothing to Complain About is a Finalist for Humor in the 2018 Indies Book of the Year Awards: https://www.forewordreviews.com/awards/books/how-to-complain-when-theres-nothing-to-complain-about/
Here's the link for the review: http://www.angryoldmanbookreviews.com/2019/03/how-to-complain-when-theres-nothing-to.html
The other evening, I accidentally discovered a new link to my inner child. I lost my front tooth. Or, as my dentist exclaimed, “My dear, you have fractured your incisor.” Call it what you will, I now have a gaping space in my mouth that is aligned with my left nostril, and completely visible when
Raise your hand if you know that today is the birthday of Susan B. Anthony. As I thought. Only one hand raised, and it’s mine. Or maybe there was one other hand raised somewhere in the back row. What a responsibility it has been all these years to be the only person in the room
Everyone is writing a book these days – John Kerry, Michelle Obama, Bob Woodward, Elizabeth Warren, Kamala Harris, Chris Christie, Howard Schultz, Susan Goldfein. Susan who? See, that’s the problem. No one knows who I am! And the field is so crowded, that I don’t stand a chance in hell of being invited
Hey boys and girls, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s Awards season. Did you know there are some 44 different awards events between January and the big finale, The Academy Awards, at the end of February? So many opportunities for celebrities to dress up, and hang out. Mostly, it’s the women who hang out. Which
As the song asks, “Are you ready?” Because ready or not, here we are again, on the cusp of a brand new year. (Do I say that every year?) 2018 certainly provided an excess of comment-worthy events. But I’ve made it a practice to limit the use of four-letter words, including the word “wall,” on
I was involved in a fender bender the other night. No air bags inflated and no one was hurt. But the left front fender of my car is a dented, ugly mess and will remain so until I hear from the insurance adjuster. I do hope he calls soon, because my poor car, while drivable,
Dear Readers: I hope you all had a lovely and relatively stress-free Thanksgiving, filled with good food and good company, and void of any political conversation. And, if you’re like me, you probably made a vow after that last piece of pie that you would never eat again. But despite my best intentions,
It seems to me there’s a critical age at which each time you add another candle to your cake, you also add another health care practitioner. If I reviewed my count of medical specialists, let’s say, at age 35, the list might just fit on the head of a pin. And now, I believe I’d
