Our family dentist, Dr. Handelman, was a burly fellow with movie star looks and thick fingers that didn’t easily fit inside a child’s mouth. The movie star looks were possibly what had clinched my mother’s decision in choosing the man—I often wondered if she chose him from a lineup—but he caused so much pain to her children that even in the waiting room...
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One summer, years ago, I lived in Washington D.C. while studying American Sign Language at Gallaudet University. Every Friday afternoon, after classes were over, I’d get on the bus and go down to the National Mall where I would wander among the monuments with no particular destination and little purpose except the purpose of trying to discover what it...
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I was, for many years in my family, the Finder of Lost Objects. My mother, especially, had a knack for losing things, and was in the habit of calling upon me to find them. A comb, a telephone number on a slip of paper, the car keys, her wallet, one shoe. I was gone from the house when her engagement ring disappeared, and I possessed no power to find...
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In the first four minutes of our Spanish class, I have managed to confidently declare more ridiculous statements and ask more impenetrable questions than any of the other students who are very wisely holding their tongues. A rough translation of my gibberish would be: I have a little spoon. May I borrow your hair today? Is the fruit seller awake? The...
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A snapshot: A woman walks down the road outside a small California town. She walks with a swing of her body, a comfortable yet deliberate walk. As I drive by I notice on this December day that she is barefoot. My passenger cries out, “Stop the car! Do you know who that is?” I don’t know who that is. “It’s Joan Baez!” To my passenger’s dismay I didn’t stop...
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