The Luna Park Gazette

Have no fear, Elizabeth; your prayers will be heard. Elizabeth is from Yonkers and she’s suffering leg pain, hypertension, and sciatica, among other ailments. And she’s asking people to pray for her. I’ve never met Elizabeth, but I learned a little bit about her this week when I was walking home and spotted a form she had completed on the sidewalk. I was about to dismiss the folded sheet of blue paper as trash and continue walking, but once I saw handwritten notes across the back of the form I had to know what was going on. I’ve been picking stuff up off the ground ever since I was child, much to my late mother’s consternation, and there’s nothing more exciting than reading the words of a stranger. This probably qualifies as some kind of invasion of privacy, but I can’t help it. I like to read about other people’s lives. And it’s not just me: there’s an online publication, Found Magazine, that’s dedicated to this type of material. It turned out that this form was a request ...

I was singing along with Paul McCartney in the Key Food this morning when my voice started to crack. The supermarket’s sound system was playing “ Band on the Run ,” the title track from Sir Paul’s 1973 album, which dominated the airwaves back in those ancient times. My mother knew the song from hearing it repeatedly on her children’s various radios but she managed to mangle the lyrics by singing “ Man on the Run.” I set her straight on her mistake and we had a good laugh over it. But last week marked the 13th anniversary of her passing and hearing that song today was a sad reminder of the gap I still have in my heart after all this time. Still, I don’t recommend crying in the produce aisle as you’re liable to upset the other customers. This was my first full week since returning from vacation in Los Angeles. The good times are fading quickly from my mind much too quickly as the problems I shoved aside while staying at my uncle’s house were waiting for me as soon as my pla...

My sister and I looked down toward the ground and spoke in one loud voice. “Hi, Mr. B!” we said. Mr. B, a blind Australian cattle dog, also known as a Blue Rescue, turned his fabulous bluish-gray head in our direction and began barking. “Thank you!” his owner said. It was our pleasure. We met Mr. B and the lovely woman who had adopted him on Friday during our walk around Griffith Park in Los Angeles and she told us calling out to him was a very helpful part of his training. We were flying back to Brooklyn on the following morning and meeting Mr. B—who lost his sight at a very young age--did a lot to rescue us from our end-of-vacation blues. This whole trip was a rescue mission for me as I got to spend quality time in a great place with people I love. We stayed with my Uncle Joe and Aunt Sara, as we’ve done so often in the past, seeing some great sights, eating (too much) great food, and getting some much-needed rest and relaxation. All vacations should work out this we...