Chip Shots

Nowadays, couples often go public with both the gender and the name of their as yet unborn child. Not us. Why take all the adventure out if it? “It’s a boy,” the doctor says, and they say, “Yeah, we know. You told us six months ago. We’ve already picked out his name and furnished his bedroom and bought his toys and signed him up for Pop Warner.” My goodness! Where’s the fun in that? We specifically told our doctor: do not tell us if it’s a boy or a girl. Consequently, we had to search for both kinds of names. Kyle and Kurt were easy choices for boy’s names. And if we had a girl? I’d heard a name as a teenager and always kind of liked it: “Kyan” (pronounced like Diane). But it was such an unusual name. Dare we risk giving our child a name she might not like? And what would other people think? Right up to the end, we were undecided. But moments after our daughter was born, Donna looked at me and said, “Kyan?” “Kyan,” I said through the mist in my eyes. That was twenty-two years ago, and ...

While our home is being built in Cave Creek, we’re living in a small apartment. It’s … ahem … cozy. For example, our son who is home from college sleeps in the closet of his brother’s room. Like I said, it’s cozy. This winter our TV went on the fritz. To make a long story short, we were left with — horrors — antenna TV. Do you remember those days? Only a few stations, fiddling with the antenna, no ESPN! (I know, it’s rather shocking!) As a result, we've been spending a lot of evenings viewing movies at home. Recently we watched The Notebook . Have you seen it? It tells the story of an older couple who now live in a nursing home. She’s there because she has senile dementia. He’s there because, well, that’s were she is. When their children try to persuade him to leave he says to them, “As long as she’s here, I’m not leaving. Wherever she is, that’s my home.” Each morning he leaves his neighboring room to spend the day with her. She doesn’t recognize him, thinking instead that he is a...

At first I was pleased. Then I was offended. Now I'm fmish’d (is that a word?) I was pleased ... because a friend from long ago contacted me out of the blue. I hadn't heard from him in many years and was delighted to learn something of what was happening in his life. Then I was offended ... for suddenly the tone of his letter changed. It started with the words, "I am writing you to let you know about a fantastic business opportunity. Have you ever heard about...?" What? Give me a break! How naive does he think I am? Does he really think I don't see through his blatant recruiting effort? Send me a greeting card, or send me a recruitment letter, but don't try use the one to validate the other! In so doing, you demean both our relationship and your "fantastic business opportunity." Now I'm fmish’d ... which is a word my friend uses when he sees me stewing over something. As in this: how many times have I used the same techniques to interest people i...

“Steve, they called your name! Go down to the field!” “What?” I said to Donna as I looked for my seat. “When we came in I signed you up for a contest. I guess they picked your name!” Incredulous, I made my way to the dugout. Seven other fans were there along with the ballplayers. “What’s going on, I asked?” trying not to appear completely ignorant. “In between innings you will try to throw a strike. One of you will win two tickets to the World Series,” said the contest spokesman. “Are they serious?” I thought. “The real World Series? Free tickets just for throwing a strike? They must be kidding!” Several thousand people in the stands. No warm-up. Jumping stomach. First in line. “Relax and throw,” I thought. I did, and … completely missed the target! The crowd let out a collective moan. Fortunately, no one else was any better. The second time around, the ball barely squeaked in for a strike. I waited. It was the only strike any of us threw. They took me to the head office and, sure enou...