“Who was that?,” my son Evan asked. We were standing out on our front lawn, throwing a football, and Evan had just seen me smile and wave to a passing minivan.
“I have no idea,” I said. “I don’t have my glasses on, and I can’t see through the tinted windshield anyway. I wave at everyone who drives by.”
Evan gave this some thought, and then, with the precise blending of disdain and amusement that teenagers reserve exclusively for their parents, said, “So, are you getting to be an old guy now?” Read More »






