Movie Diary

I know it was second grade because I remember the classroom. And I know what teacher was involved because I never forgot her or the moment I’m about to highlight. The year was 1974. I don’t have many memories from that stage of my life, but the following was poignant enough to have possibly set…

Now that my son is in his 20s, working and taking college classes, my time with him has diminished considerably. He still lives at home, so I see him in passing, but the quality time I used to revel in has long since passed. Throughout his childhood, my son and I were connected at the…

When I was a young man, the legal drinking age was 18. That meant that a good chunk of teenagers could go out to the bars while still in high school. Admittedly, this caused some problems. I should know; I was one of them.  When I was 20 years old, the state of Vermont changed…

“Eat the meat!” I can hear my grandmother’s voice bellowing through the kitchen like it was yesterday. She was famous for her Sunday Italian meals, which she relentlessly provided to an extended family throughout her life. My grandmother grew up in “The Gut” of our city, where all the Italian immigrants (including her parents) had…

Only three people have ever cut my hair: There was the older gentleman that my mother brought me to when I was young. Then there was the son of my dad’s barber, who cut my hair for decades. And finally, there’s the guy I’ve been going to for the last several years. I especially liked…

During my formative years, my mother made me attend church fairly regularly. I had to sit in the pew for the first several years, but when I got old enough, I was ushered into the world of an altar boy. (For those uninitiated, an altar boy (or girl) generally assists the priest during the Eucharist…

Over the years, I’ve told my son at least a thousand times, “It’s a puzzle, figure it out.” Borne of necessity, I used the phrase to promote action in my child, given that his first response to difficulty, traditionally, was to either give up or make a half-hearted attempt. Because of his laissez-faire attitude, my…

The older I get, the more solitary my life becomes. This isn’t a sad or deliberate thing but rather an unconscious choice to lean into more peaceful, less dramatic activities. I’ve always loved team sports, parties, holidays, concerts, sporting events, etc. – undertakings that involve large groups of people. I thrived off these activities throughout…

My wife and I rented our first apartment from an elderly couple right after we graduated from college. The space consisted of three rooms and a bathroom squeezed into a renovated attic above the main house. It was a relatively cozy spot; however, the ceilings were sloped, which meant I would always knock my head…

I remember the moment like it was yesterday: My girlfriend (soon to be my wife) and I were sitting in our tiny apartment glued to the television. It was evening, and CNN was covering the first United States invasion of Iraq. The war had officially begun. And in a change to the network landscape, the…

Not a week goes by that I’m not yelling at my son about eating snacks in his bedroom. Initially, I wasn’t opposed to the idea, but after years of finding stale and rotted food underneath his bed and behind his furniture, I finally put my foot down (getting fresh wall-to-wall carpeting installed also prompted the…

If there’s one thing I’ve been lucky with in my life, it’s sleep. Other than my spat with cancer several years ago, I’ve navigated my night times with relative ease. I hear countless stories from people who suffer from insomnia or nocturnal restlessness, and I always feel thankful that I’ve avoided that life pitfall. I’ve…

I have a bad habit of buying useless gifts for my wife and son. This reckless activity manifests most visibly during Christmastime when I generally go overboard in the purchase of unneeded items. I have always loved seeing my wife’s and son’s eyes light up when they are met with the motherlode of wrapped presents.…

There was one Chinese restaurant in the town I grew up in. Our family rarely went there because my father (being a die-hard Italian) didn’t have much use for Eastern cuisine. It was all fettuccini, rigatoni, and fusilli for him. (Ironically, I found out years after my father’s death that his first date with my…

When I moved my family moved into our new home a decade ago, I convinced myself the bonus room located above the garage would be my haven. I imagined spending time there to relax, reflect, and create. Unfortunately, that never happened. From the moment I stuck a large screen TV and couch into the space,…