My husband starts peeling garlic cloves before the table’s even set.  He tastes my soup with a wary tongue, and then ambushes the flavor with pepper.  He was there when fire was first invented.  And like father/like son, having witnessed the taste battles close at hand, our progeny heads off to the trail where only spice hunters go. For a long time, I tolerated the macho spicing ceremonies —  with a good share of disdain.  And while they grabbed for their SpiceMan mustard, I inched my way to the the milder blend, proud that my knowing taste buds managed well on their own.  I was once...

“Bring More” was my father’s nickname for my alma mater, which drained about $3400+ each year from our family’s savings.  Back in the early 70’s, that was a significant sum for a college education  —  four decades later, an updated version would ring true as:  “Bring Lots and Lots  More.”   I’m delighted to say, with graduation now a springtime away, our academic debt is settled, and this last lap is — well, I think of it as “free.” It’s a hard point to argue, but definitely a breezy time after That Long College...

So many years ago, long before CD’s went on sale, when not-yet-dinosaurs roamed across Humphreyville, as it was once known, we voted for our class song. Joni Mitchell’s classic has never lost its pull, and a day before my son heads back for his last semester, here it is again. The Circle Game by Joni Mitchell    Yesterday a child came out to wonder Caught a dragonfly inside a jar Fearful when the sky was full of thunder And tearful at the falling of a star Then the child moved ten times round the seasons Skated over ten clear frozen streams Words like when you’re older must...

“Oh, you’ll love this tea,” my friend shouted from the kitchen, while I waited in her living room.  I’d offered to help, but, no, she said it was a very special brew and she didn’t want any distractions.  “What kind is it?” I called back, hoping for a hint of what was to come.  “You’ll tell me,” she shot back in a way that let me know that my tea tasting talents ranked high on her list.  “I had the tastiest Darjeeling, before I left for work.  Wouldn’t surprise me if the leaves had been hand-dried.”  Her seclusion...

In 1968, a teachers strike in NYC closed the school doors for just enough time for me to get knee-deep in my first political campaign.  While my classmates met regularly to tackle SAT words, trig problems, and new Spanish conjugations — with my parents’ blessing, I found my way to the local O’Dwyer/McCarthy HQ  and tagged on to visibility efforts across the city.  I gave out flyers, sized up delis to see if there were enough people to merit a quick visit from the candidate, and wove through a standing room only fundraiser at  Madison Square Garden collecting contributions.  36...