My old boss John Rigas was a generous and philanthropic billionaire. He was also convicted felon who shattered the lives of the people who worked for him.
Warm memories of my first car are interrupted by thinking about my crap-wagon second car.
The only thing my ol'man loved better than his birthday is getting a bottle of cheap whiskey for his birthday,
The thought of Grandma Coyle's smile, and all that it stood for-- stands the test of time, and continues to glow even after she's gone.
Sometimes my laughter seems out of place, but Grandma Cichon would tell you that's your problem, not mine.
Remembering a day on the wonderfully terrible playground around the corner, circa 1983.