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For My Dad, Who Never Killed Me

This is a post I wrote for my father, The Jeff Nelson, *who loves me despite this blog. ________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ My dad tells this charming story about the time he found the Jeff Nelsons of America. The story became charming sometime around 1993 when I realized that in addition to going by Dad, Daddy, Daddio, (whiny voice)… Continue reading For My Dad, Who Never Killed Me

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Yo’ Mama’s So Clever She Could Start A Blog.

I know how to do a back hand spring. I speak Spanish. I am an excellent yard mower. I can lick my nose, and (if push came to tongue sprain) my eye. I have all kinds of hidden talents. Turns out, when forced to unveil these gems to the begging crowds (read: without provocation, spew… Continue reading Yo’ Mama’s So Clever She Could Start A Blog.

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Be Nice or Leave…and with that I’ll make my exit.

    The smell of baby powder and Bengay floating through the air. The air, confused just as all visitors, is hot and stagnant, unable to breathe or roam without the swift kick of an air conditioner. Floral patterns hug plaid and hold hands with toile. The olive-green carpet wags its shags atop and in between your toes, offering comfort… Continue reading Be Nice or Leave…and with that I’ll make my exit.

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Candy For Breakfast: It’s not always fun to be The Fun Aunt.

    Breakfast table. Three kids and a lady with hair resembling Diana Ross during a particularly testy airport security check. I supervise as the little one’s eat. I am trying my hardest to be the fun aunt, so as my niece and nephew scarf down piles of fresh fruit and ask for more water, I go against the… Continue reading Candy For Breakfast: It’s not always fun to be The Fun Aunt.

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In Fergitude

{This is an old post, but seeing as how the last few nights have served me with wicked nightmare after horrifying vision, it saved me from typing some slurred and sleepy drivel. This post also seems unfortunately appropriate to my current state of mind:  far less sunny than Miami, probably less productive than New York. Sweet Lord! Detroit. My nap-less… Continue reading In Fergitude