Confession No. 133 — Being Archie

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‘Every family has one … And Archie was that guy in our family … That uncle.’ I spoke in my loudest and most sincere voice to about 50 people whom I didn’t know. I’d met a few of them in years past but I couldn’t have recognized them on the street. Nor would I register […]

Confession No. 128 – Back to the days of Christopher Robin

Stuffed Bell Pepper — Classic comfort at its spring best

Most of my memories begin with a letter. I wrote it as my son slept beneath a swaying mobile in his dimly lit nursery. A CD player with soft volume was set to shuffle Kenny Loggins’ Return to Pooh Corner. Catherine and I had converted our first child’s room from an office to a little […]

Confession No. 93 — How I remember (Recipe: Boardwalk Sausage & Peppers Sandwich)

Sausage & Peppers Sandwiches. Bada Bing!

I remember those who gave their lives for me. Not only this weekend, but always. I think of their ultimate sacrifice daily — when I speak to or think about my father. He lived to tell the stories about others who didn’t. April 7, 1966 My father, as I’ve mentioned here before, was raised in […]

Confession No. 51 — Why sweat the big things? Worry about the small (really important) stuff. (Recipe: Soda Pop Sherbet)

This was the homemade 'ice cream' that I grew up on — sans the slice of Meyer Lemon. Only two simple ingredients and about 30 minutes in the ice cream maker, and the memories came flooding back.

I‘ve been accused a time (or six) of being a complainer. While I’m not ready to accept that, I do admit to griping about certain things in life that are worthy of being bitched about. Along with my high cholesterol and blood pressure, my tendency to sweat the small things will probably shave some years […]

Confession No. 46 — Yeah, I knocked ‘em … before I loved ‘em (Recipe: NJ Sloppy Joes)

NJ-style Sloppy Joe — Not your run of the mill sandwich. It's better.

Want to know how to pick up a woman — and keep her? Just start out the relationship by telling her that women are like fleas on unwashed dogs. That’s what I did. Once. I also came out of my corner throwing low blows at the idea of grunge rock and wearing socks with sandals. […]