-
The Race to a Better Matchstick
A long time ago, I went to Russia. I met, fell in love with, and married my translator. Not long after we got married my Russian bride and I were at home just getting to know each other. For some reason, she really wanted to know the location of military outposts nearby. Crazy, right? One day, she was trying to light a candle with a little book of American-made matches, which she didn’t know how to operate. Really. To be fair, she had never seen a book of paper matches in her life. She grew up in Northern Russia and they just didn’t have paper matches, only superior wood matchsticks.…
-
Visa Application
For a long time after the American Embassy in Moscow denied her request for a visa, I thought about getting my fiancé (somehow) to Mexico and then crossing the southern border into Texas — um, legally — illegally — I didn’t care. Only because I didn’t know. Really! Then we could get married and everything would be perfect. I don’t know how I would have gotten her to Mexico. I don’t think I gave it a lot of thought. I had fallen in love with my translator and had asked her to marry me that same year at a place that was close to my heart, a place where I had lived when I was four…
-
Broken Legs and Priorities
The impact threw me from the motorcycle into the air in the opposite direction of the way we had been traveling. Physics is funny like that! I landed on my right leg, which snapped like an unlucky baseball bat in the hands of an angry Bo Jackson, who just struck out. Things were worse for my friend Tim, who lay screaming on the ground because the car’s chrome trim had peeled off and sliced into his right leg, making just a big mess. Let me back up a bit: We’re in the eighth grade at Adams Middle School (now Saraland Middle School). And I’m struggling academically, which was par for…
-
Gas Station
I’m probably 15 or 16 years old, riding around the metropolis of Saraland, Alabama, with two guys I knew from our neighborhood. While I don’t remember the exact car we were in, I do remember that both Jerry and Derek were hotrod aficionados. And they were really into fast cars. Probably a 1970 Chevy Nova or something like that. But it really didn’t matter because in a matter of seconds, neither we nor half of the county would be around to tell our children the difference between a 350 short block, a slant-six, or a Lego-built truck. Jerry and Derek were regular consumers of nicotine and, as such, needed a…
-
Managing Expectations
I tell my wife and daughters all the time to manage their expectations. Whether it’s a new job, new boyfriend, new car, fast food, new conspiracy theory, or new Girl Scout cookie flavors, manage your expectations. You get the picture. I recommend managing expectations about pretty much everything in life. Don’t have unrealistic expectations (positive or negative) of anybody or any place or anything. Don’t believe that Wendy’s commercial about their food. Here’s why: Once, I accepted a new job in East Tennessee. Now, East Tennessee is beautiful and sometimes I miss living there. I even learned how to speak a little Tennessean during my time there. But I grew…
-
Russian Gasoline
My translator’s mother, who had a broken leg at the time, hops into the small Russian made car, which looks like a cheap ripoff of a 1970s Toyota Corolla. Her grown daughters also make their way in. We pull out of the parking lot and fifty yards down the narrow snow-packed road, the engine stops, and I know why. At this point, the oldest daughter informs me, in her direct I-will-kill-you Russian way, to make the car “go.” “Make it go American!” She motions with her arm to make the car go because one, we’re all hungry and two, her mom has limited walking ability. She can’t understand just why…
-
Never Rescue Frogs (They’re Evil)
I am sitting on the couch in the lobby of our local gym because I rescued a frog. Now, normally, I’d be upstairs working out — in the very limited way that I do. My wife is upstairs in the torture room she calls “exercise.” Healthy people walk by with their frou-frou water on the way to the weight room, racquetball, or one of the other torture rooms. They look at me smugly as they sashay by. Maybe I remind them of a mangled car wreck. It sure looks that way by their looks. Meanwhile, one of my lower back disks is continuing to press upon the sciatic nerve going down my…
-
Not a Singer
At the end of the year in elementary school, the band teacher at the middle school arrived to test us, fifth graders, to see who had “the music.” If you had the music, you could be a part of the middle school band the following year. If you did not, then you took woodworking. We lined up by the stage. The band director played a few notes on the piano. It was strange to be in the cafeteria when it wasn’t time to eat. Every sound bounced off the floor and empty tables. Some students hummed in tune. Many were off. If you hummed in tune, the director would look…
-
Hello New Zealand
My dad is on the top of a 40-foot pine tree next to our house, but it’s okay. No, really. He has emphysema, a bad heart, 40 year’s worth of very hard-living, an unfiltered cigarette addiction, and clearly a lack of trust in others. He believes he is the only person who can install a new CB/short wave antenna even if it is at the top of a 40-foot pine tree. CB (citizens’ band) radios were a big thing then in the 1970s. Once he installed it, he could talk to new friends as far away as New Zealand. He’d sit in his room with a large shortwave radio shouting:…
-
Russian Sweet Tea
“You’re doing this wrong.” Don’t you get tired of these stupid headlines? I do! You’re Eating Apples All Wrong You’re Making Beans All Wrong You’re Eating Pizza All Wrong You’re Cooking Meth the Wrong Way I could go on. Regardless, let me share why it’s important that you make sweet tea the right way. You’re welcome! Once, I was in Russia and I wanted sweet tea. That’s all. As it turns out, they don’t drink cold sweet tea in Russia, or pretty much anywhere else in the world. I don’t know why, because sweet tea done right is awesome. We stayed in a dormitory in a college town in the…
