Once upon a time, well over 30 years ago, I was a primary school student at Holy Cross, a Catholic parish and grade school in Western Massachusetts. On one random day, I got into a schoolyard brawl with some goofy smart-mouth kid named Tommy. To this day, I don't recall what that particular fight was about, just that it was the first of several knock-down, drag-out, schoolyard scuffles that would repeatedly land both of our asses in the principal's office. Whenever Tommy and I were sent to the principal, we would sit side-by-side outside the office, on a tacky green office couch, waiting to be scolded by the top nun in the joint. Thankfully, this was in the years shortly after nuns had permanently holstered their rulers. Each time Tommy and I were sent to the principal's office, we would just sit petulantly, semi-supervised with no choice but to be civil towards each other while we waited for our scolding and were forced to make up. Over the course of
I use to love thermoses. When you’re a little kid at school, that’s what you got, your lunch box and your trusty thermos. Mom packs them up all nice for you and you always knew the thermos would keep your juice cold and your soup warm, and as a little kid you can only ponder the magic and wonder, “How does it know?” Best of all, both the lunch box and the thermos were always tough as hell, so if you drop them, maybe a little dent or scratch, but no worries. If a bully messes with you, you could always hit them in the face with either the lunch-box or thermos and then run like Hell, and all would be good. Yeah, I use to love thermoses... until recently. In my apartment we have a seemingly nifty thermos. It is a one-liter “Add-A-Cup” Thermos brand bottle (pictured left). It supposedly keeps warm stuff warm for a full 12 hours and cold stuff cold for twice that. As you can see in the pic, it’s made of that tough-looking red plastic that people are just socially conditioned t
There are only certain things I miss about New England since moving to the Pacific. Near the top of that list is Thanksgiving Day with my brothers, parents and cousins. Even on the outskirts of Lahaina, no picnic on the beach could ever compete with Mom’s cooking surrounded by the dramatic comedy that is my family. However, today in the Maui sunshine, I chose to be content with a simple meal, a boogie board and some new friends. Despite certain hardships, I am very grateful for a lot of things and people in my life right now. To all the folks who have continued to stand by me near and far, as well as those with whom I’ve shared simpler kindness and have since parted ways: Thank you, Thank you, Thank you.
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