Childbirth in the Passenger Seat: Two Perspectives

The Ford Escape: I get it. I really do. When I rolled off that Ford assembly line, my red paint glistening with a bright luster that only my unlived adventures could dim, I knew the  thrill of anticipation and couldn’t wait for the open road. The unknown. The double yellow lines yet to cross and Quaker State oil yet to be…

A Few More Chickens to Pluck

I spend a blissful Saturday morning at Costco, whipping in and out of the aisles stacked high with colorful consumables and dodging shopping cart traffic that seems intent on t-boning and rear-ending their closest fellow shopper. Here is America’s version of the street market where plastic-capped and plastic-gloved characters yell or even sing out the names…