“Eeyore, don’t pick your nose!” Waiting in the checkout line, I tore my attention from the tabloid photos of Big Foot’s fanny lift, to witness a boy mining his nasal Eeyorifaces and the droopy-eyed mom who resembled a donkey herself.

Obviously, popular names have changed a smidgen since Bobby, Tommy, Karen, and Darlene pranced across the original Mickey Mouse Club set. Gee whiz, Annette was such an exotic name! And if a parent yelled for John or Linda, half of the neighborhood kids deserted our backyard kickball game. Read the rest of this article »

While waiting for an oil change, I pawed through the usual grimy reading material—back issues of The Taoist Purgatorial Review, Elephantiasis for Dummies, and some 1999 meeting lists for Quilters Anonymous. My hand hovered over the OSHA Hazardous Waste Guide until I spotted a pamphlet on survival techniques. Survival, huh? As in running out of organic cat litter? Or when your hair stylist moves to LA to work for Howie Mandel? Nope. The article bypassed such tragedies, and focused on muddling through the everyday bear or shark attack. Read the rest of this article »