I was in fifth grade in the fall of 1969.
Operator: “911, what’s your emergency?”
TOS: “Well, um, my wife and kids are gone. I’m not sure what to do.”
Operator: “Gone? How long have they been missing?”
Never let it be said, once again, that the Spouseman ignores his readers.
My old friend, Gary, whom I’ve been best buds with since the early days of the LBJ Administration, recently retired after almost 40 years with the U.S. Postal Service.
It pains me deep-like when those near and dear to me are hurting. And lately, the folks in my oldest sister’s family are having a bit of an identity crisis.