The Luna Park Gazette

“Hold on a minute,” the voice on the other end of the line said, “I’ll put her on.” “Okay…” The “her” was in question was a former co-worker of mine whom I had not spoken with—nor even thought about, really—in quite a while. Yet, there she was on the other end of the line telling me that she had just delivered a baby—which I could hear crying in the background. This was intriguing, especially since we had worked together at a newspaper and midwifery hadn’t been on her resume. Of course, she wasn’t a midwife, she hadn’t delivered a baby, and she wasn’t on the phone. And there wasn’t even a phone. No, the whole scenario was streaming out of my subconscious to create yet another one of my oddball dreams. This one occurred late last week and while normally I can do a decent job of deconstructing my dreams, this one has me a bit stumped. I’ve been trying to identify the person who told me to hold on. I knew who the person was during the dream, and I suspect that she was ...

One of earliest blog posts I ever wrote was a little item entitled “Violent Swiss Almond.” At the time, I had noticed this habit I have where I would read a word or phrase, and my mind would take the first few letters and rush to a bizarre and completely incorrect solution. The title refers to my misreading of an ice cream flavor called Vanilla Swiss Almond. There have been countless other such screwups over the years. Once, while walking through my local supermarket, I noticed a food spread in the refrigerated section called “Don’t Eat.” Don’t Eat? What a strange name for a product, I thought. Why would I buy something with a name like that? But I looked again and saw that it was actually called Down East, which seem a little more sensible. (I later joked that they were going to call the stuff Tastes Like Shit, but it didn’t test well. Rimshot! ) It has finally dawned on me that nearly of my misreads are negative. I don’t think I ever came up with an encouraging screw-...

I reached for my notebook the moment the tears started to flow. “You’re crying over Resident Alien ?” I scribbled in my journal. I have made no secret of being a shameless weeper. I cry over anything, old movies, new movies, TV shows, songs and don’t even get me started on that Kohl’s Christmas commercial from a few years ago. Seriously, don't get me started or I'll fall apart all over again. You know things are bad when the women in my family—my sister and auntie—are fed up with all my waterworks. “Don’t start bawling!” is one my sister’s common commands. On Saturday morning, I was watching the latest episode of Resident Alien the Syfy channel’s comedy series based on a comic book that I’ve never read. The show debuted on January 27, 2021, and I was hooked immediately. Alan Tudyk plays the titular hero who is known on this planet as Harry Vanderspeigle, the town doctor in Patience, Colorado. The program is in its fourth season now and while it may have...

This one's for Old San Juan. Every time my sister goes on vacation or a business trip, she always brings back a T-shirt for me. Canada, Atlantic City, California, I’ve got a whole wardrobe of gift T-shirts. I really appreciate my sister's thoughtfulness and it’s pretty cool to walk around advertising all these funky locations. On Saturday morning, I was heading to my supermarket when I passed a couple on Bay Ridge Place. “We were in Old San Juan,” the man said to me. “It’s beautiful.” For a second there, I wasn’t sure what he was talking about until I realized I was wearing an Old San Juan T-shirt that my sister had gotten for me during a trip to Puerto Rico. “My sister was there,” I said. “Maybe it’s time for me to pay a visit.” We chatted a little longer and went our separate ways. It’s one of these casual encounters that I am learning to appreciate more. I used to take these occurrences for granted, but I see now in this harsh world in which we live, a pleasa...