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Weekend Wanderer: I Can’t Quit Urgent Care
You may recall that day I picked up my son from a Secaucus mall because he had a raging fever. I mean, of course you remember. That’s all you do, right? Track the events of my life? To that end, where did that extra key come from? If you’re tracking my life, you should know. …
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Enjoying Fall in the Philly Area
Autumn is the best time of the year. That’s, um, not an opinion. Think about it. It’s cool enough to be outside without insects or reptiles ruining your life, but not so cold you mistake yourself for one of Shackleton’s crew. Halloween and Thanksgiving glint on the horizon, with the winter holidays warmly on their…
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Weekend Wanderer: I Have an Extra Key
I have a problem. A secret problem. See, I have an extra key on my key ring. I can hear you out there, you know. Asking what the big deal is about an extra key. First, I think we’re well established here. We all know I do not have superfluous keys on my key ring.…
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Weekend Wanderer: Memories That Never Happened
Can you stand one more column about movies? Well, not movies per se. More like the memories surrounding them. Memory is tricky. As the BBC’s Science Focus explains, it can be affected by many things. When my husband and I were dating, I called him one night, shocked to have learned the Austrian singer of…
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Weekend Wanderer: About That Summerween Thing …
As I write this, it’s a steamy July day. The temperature is topping out at 93 degrees, but the humidity is nudging that feeling above 100. And I have one thing on my mind. Halloween III: Season of the Witch. Don’t judge me. Do you buy seashell Christmas ornaments during your June vacation to Cape…
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Weekend Wanderer: My Gut Wanted More Than Just a Scone
It was a Saturday, and I was driving my son to Secaucus, New Jersey. He was seeing a movie with friends. Why was I driving a kid who has his license? Long story. Why was I driving a kid from Bucks County to see friends in Secaucus, an hour and a half away? Longer story. …
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Philadelphians Fight to Save the Wanamaker Holiday Experience. Join in the Fun.
You know, two people yelled at me this week. But what I read in The Philadelphia Inquirer absolutely and wonderfully made up for it. A plan is taking shape to maintain the Wanamaker Christmas Light Show and Dickens Village. Does anybody else hear Queen singing “We are the champions, my friends…”? No? Just me? That’s…
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Water, Water Everywhere
It’s a hot summer day. Sweat trickles down your back. Clothing clings to your damp skin. You gaze at the Schuylkill River, longing to dive into her cool waters. Wait. What do you mean, no? Okay. The Delaware then. Still nothing doing, huh? That’s what I thought. When it comes to recreation on the water,…
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Weekend Wanderer: Should I Be on An Outdoor Committee?
So, the day I was Googling “how do I get rid of skinks?” was also the day I was tapped to join a committee in my husband’s outdoor organization. Yes. They’ve met me. Just deepens that mystery, doesn’t it? It all started as I climbed the lone step to my front door. A tiny blue…
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Weekend Wanderer: Why Is Benson Boone Singing About My Life?
Ten days ago, I’d never heard of Benson Boone. Good Morning America threw him up at the end of their opening sequence, all wiry Timothy Olyphant frame and pornstache. Not that I’d know. Who’s that guy? I thought. Why is GMA acting like I know who he is? Because I don’t. And I planned to…
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Weekend Wanderer: Old Pictures and a Frozen Cat
Two bins of photographs were among the many things I found when cleaning out Willie’s apartment after she moved to assisted living. These bins are nearly the size of a loveseat. They hold heaps of pictures. Traditional 4-by-6-inch pictures. Larger 8-by-10-inch pictures. Pictures in folders. Pictures in frames. Loose pictures and pictures in envelopes from…
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Weekend Wanderer: Zesty Flounder and Love Letters
By the time we had Willie tucked in over at the assisted living side of the Temple of Doom, it was Christmas. And I was exhausted. Exhausted from weeks of clearing out Willie’s apartment. Exhausted from another broken Christmas. So Willie’s pile of folders packed with newspaper clippings, cards, detritus — I couldn’t deal. I…
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Weekend Wanderer: I Want to Be a Cowboy
By the time you read this, I’ll be in Missoula, Montana. Don’t worry. It’s not forever. I mean, I’d like it to be forever. I’ve been to Missoula several times. Once, my Uber driver took me to all the Yellowstone filming locations. Another time, the staff at the Boot Barn told me about standing in…
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Weekend Wanderer: A Mom, by Way of Houdini
I was hanging with Willie in assisted living. That was when the staff on the independent living side of the Temple of Doom asked to speak with me. It’s not every day that your mom gets herself in trouble in a building she doesn’t even live in. But then Willie isn’t your everyday mom. Given…
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Weekend Wanderer: Am I Really Me?
Once my brother became Willie’s guardian, we thought our days of funky financial transactions were over. My brother gave me a stack of Willie’s checks — signed by him as per the guardianship — so I could pay for Willie’s, well, shenanigans. But those checks — they bounced. We discovered bank policy required that Willie…
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Weekend Wanderer: In Defense of Bad Shark Movies
Summer glides toward us like ocean waves. And I have something to say. Jaws 3 and The Meg are great shark movies. I know, I know. They’re notoriously bad films. Rotten Tomatoes gives them ratings of 11 percent and 47 percent, respectively. For reference, Return to the Blue Lagoon, Look Who’s Talking Now — that’s…
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Weekend Wanderer: My Antique Medical Records
I just finished a book. It was about two young princes. They disappeared from the Tower of London during their uncle’s 15th-century reign. The author’s team discovered a document from that time, in continental Europe. It may explain the fate of the princes. The document, a 500-year-old letter, was illegible in parts. Some information —…
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Weekend Wanderer: Let’s Talk About Hair in the Shower
I was exploring the submarine Becuna, down at the Philadelphia waterfront. I stepped inside the seamen’s bathroom. Although that bathroom hadn’t been used in years, I found myself shrinking from the walls. I wanted nothing in that bathroom touching me. Part of it was stepping over the high lip of the door to enter the…
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