There is a story my father used to tell about me as a toddler. It was winter and we were outside in the snow, my three-year-old sister on tiny skis, me sitting on a toboggan, both of us bundled in snowsuits. A friend complimented my sister on her...
Recreational Eating
Hooray for the mouth. Sing its praises. Such a versatile capable orifice. Gateway to the stomach, conduit for food and drink. Home to the tongue and teeth. Framed by soft pink lips. The mouth speaks. Sings. Whispers. Shouts. Blows. Swallows...
How To Be Friends
I have made the claim recently that talking is my favorite activity, but I am here now to clarify that claim. It isn’t that I love talking to just anyone—although I have been known to engage with random strangers—but that my deep love of talking...
Thoughts About Human Speech Since I’ve (Almost) Lost My Voice
There are few activities I enjoy as much as I enjoy talking. Sitting over dinner with friends and shooting the breeze. Discussing the state of the world, kids, movies, food. I’m open to any subject. A wide-ranging talkfest with friends makes the...
The Freeing Embrace of Imperfection
My voice these days emerges sounding like the slow deep rasp of an old woman; occasionally it resembles the high-pitched chirp of a child. It is no longer under my control. Receptionists and clerks raise their voices with me as if I’m deaf or...
Still Here
When I was diagnosed with an untreatable fatal disease two months ago (bulbar-onset ALS), I had the sensation of stepping off a treadmill. There were/are the expected existential thoughts brought on by the imminence of death, but alongside that I...