Who might love The Whistler?
Tag Archives | fathers
As an occasional journalist, I love covering topics I know nothing about–although editors understandably want to pigeonhole writers so they have a go-to guy for music, another for sports, a third for coal-mining, or whatever. Part of it is that I place a high value on getting to learn new stuff, which is why my […]
The young master pounds on the bathroom door. “Pappa, is Santa Claus real?” I panic. “Give me a minute.” (more…)
Your name is what?
I first met my son in a Guatemala City hotel room. Surrounded by his foster family, all of whom were weeping, I held that little eight-months’ old miracle in my big clumsy hands—these hands!—and, gazing into his eyes, murmured “Me llamo pappa”: My name is Potato. I had been studying Spanish, you see. (more…)