Tag Archives: New Jersey

A Modern Family Christmas

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I thought the story would be the nose ring.  I was almost certain I knew my mother’s reaction.  I heard her, as I sat in the back room of the Wilmington tattoo parlor, after I felt the needle pierce my skin, go, “Oh , darling, why did you do that to your nose?” Yes, I know.  Women my age are taking out their nose rings, not putting them in.  Correction.  Women my age took out their nose rings ten, if not twenty – years ago.  I was prepared for the inquisition as to why, her daughter, a responsible adult, with … Continue reading →

Modern Family: Jersey Edition

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S. stood outside the driver’s side window. “Are you driving?”  He shouted through the glass. “Do you want me to?” “No.” I’m not surprised by this. In our 16 years of knowing each other, I can count the times I was behind the wheel with S. as a passenger. I jump out of the car and walk around to the passenger side and get in, while S. adjusts the mirrors. “It’s dirty in here.  Sorry about that,”  I say, as S. inspects the car that was once his, the car he’ll tell you I stole, but it was a fair … Continue reading →

A Tale of Two Pizzas

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“How’s your pizza?” “It’s excellent.  You’ll love it.” “No seriously, how’s your pizza?”  I lean in a little bit.  “I’m from Jersey,” I add, as I toss my unruly hair, still unsure how to behave with its newly acquired southeastern frizz, over my shoulder.  “Pizza’s important to me,” this last statement delivered with a reverence typically reserved for a discussion about someone’s church, or their family, or the Superbowl. That’s how the conversation began when, one night, on our way to Walmart, I noticed a tiny storefront set back from the road with a sign outside advertising pizza.  Since landing … Continue reading →

Modern Family

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“Are there any Jewish people here?” My mother asks, over her vanilla yogurt and Swiss cheese sandwich. “I think there are a few in the gated community up the road,” I say, clearing dishes off the table. “Well that’s a relief,” my mom says.  “How did you hear?” “The Jews have secret smoke signals down here, Mom, ones that the Klan don’t recognize.” “Ilene…” my ex-husband says.  It’s the warning call, the one where he tells me to back off.  Just the use of the word Klan is feeding into my mother’s fear that I’ve moved myself and her grandchildren … Continue reading →