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Arnold and Mary: A Love Story Arnold Knutson met his wife, the former Mary O’Boyle, at the Palmer House Hotel of Chicago, Illinois, on a hot August evening of the year Nineteen-hundred and twenty-two. He was a guest of the hotel, in town to convince the Chicago Grain Exchange to include mushroom futures among its tradable commodities. She was the waitress serving him in the hotel dining room. “They’re too

The only thing that appeals to me about prison life is the last meal before the execution. The guards, pleased with the ritual, tell the condemned man to order any meal he wants, they will have it delivered. Liquor too? Maybe not, but I do not really know. I bet sometimes they smuggle in a cold beer. I suspect that most prisoners do not choose haute cuisine, which would lose its luster on death row. Instead I imagine

The hospital remembers everything. The hospital remembers every patient, the day of entry and of discharge, the medications administered and treatments undergone. The hospital remembers every doctor, every nurse, every therapist, pharmacist, janitor, receptionist, and candy striper, all of whom are interchangeable. The candy striper could become a surgeon, the surgeon a patient, the patient a cadaver for the medical

See that boat, the nice blue one? Let’s steal it. When the sun sets, we will swim across the harbor, scramble aboard, hoist the sails, and wave good-bye to our foolish ideas about achievement and responsibility. We will set course for Vancouver Island, or St. Barts in the Caribbean, or Fiji. How far can Fiji be? You can catch fish and squid. Do you like sushi? No? Then we will flag down passing cruise ships and invit

Today’s Tale: It’s a Very Thin Line CUSTOMER A: I just need this plywood cut down to 3’ x 6’. ME: Okay, done. CUSTOMER A: Thank you! ME: Thanks for coming in. Who’s next? CUSTOMER B: Can you cut these two sheets of plywood in half for me? ME: 4’ x 4’? CUSTOMER B: Yes, please. ME: No problem. There you go. CUSTOMER B: Thanks, that saves me a lot of time. ME: Glad to help. Thanks for coming in. Who’s next? CUSTOM

I called the IRS today with one question: Does a homeless person have to pay taxes? Absolutely, the man told me. I thanked him and hung up. I liked that conversation. Asked a simple question, got a simple answer. From that conversation I place the IRS high above Welfare and the Housing Authority and the Defense Department. Ask questions to those people and you get a big run around. I called the Defense Department wit

The quietness of the voices woke me up. Not that Mom and Dad yell a lot, Not nearly like the Worzowskis across the street, But quietness is even worse. That’s when you know something serious is going on. I lay in bed and stared at the ceiling. Kathy snored in her bed across the room. The Love Is kids smiled down at her from their poster. Above me, Peter Frampton smiled from his. Oh Peter, I thought, what’s wrong? I w

“You know what they called UFO’s in ancient days? Chariots of the gods, that’s what. Your typical ancient saw something weird hurling across the sky, he assumed it was just Apollo or Sun-Ra or Odin or whoever out for a spin. Nowadays no one believes in gods, but lotsa’ folks sure believe in UFO’s from other planets. You believe in UFO’s?” Rachel believed in an evil force that

God strode purposefully into the batter’s box, tapped some dirt off His divine cleats, and positioned His bat on His broad, steely right shoulder.  His powerful muscles protruded majestically through taut, ruddy skin.  His imposing frame tapered like a marble column, or a California redwood, or the world’s largest skyscraper, the Sears Tower, which stood only a few miles away.  And His well-hewn countenan