My, There Aren’t Plenty of Fish

The first time (only time) I’ve been fishing I was eight. My dad and I went out to a lake near our place—Roosevelt Park for those of you who know it.  Mom read a trashy novel by the water and let us have our fantasy where we would bring home meat like impressive providers, catching something…

My Brush with the Law

On the morning of the Maryland State Bar Exam, allegedly. I’m unconscious. There’s a crackling noise first. A rush of strings then follows from behind. It’s Steve Tyler. And he does NOT want to miss a thing. This unexpected but ideal wake up song sways and sashays in. The string orchestra comforts, conjuring romantic images: Liv…