Kith & Kin

The most embarrassing thing that ever happened to me in my whole, entire life happened in my own living room. It happened around 3 am. And it happened when I was completely alone. The early ’90s, of course, were the pre-cell-phone and pre-Internet era. And sometimes in that era, a TV network would broadcast a live show that viewers could call into and ask a question. On this night there was one such live, national show: Lt. Col. Oliver North was interviewing radio personality Rush Limbaugh . At that time, you could hardly have named two people who were more widely known than Oliver North and Rush Limbaugh. It’s not worth belaboring why—the point is that both were tremendously famous. Having come across the show, I thought, “What an opportunity!” I had often thought about calling in to Limbaugh’s daily AM radio program, but (1) I doubted I would actually get through and (2)   talking to him live while 15 million people listened in was a pretty daunting idea. But that n...

“Steven, would you please go downstairs and get the clinics box for me?” The request came from aged Mrs. White, a tiny white-haired Southern belle. Cindy and I, early in our marriage, were working for her in exchange for free rent in the apartment above her garage. As the lazy afternoon Southern sun drifted through the gauzy windows, illuminating dust motes floating in the air, Cindy and I were vacuuming the floors and wiping down her antiques—in a futile effort to conquer those same motes when they came to rest. Mrs. White was an easy person to work for. She wasn’t demanding or demeaning or unreasonable. Her wants were generally few. “Steven, would you please go downstairs and get the clinics box for me?” “Sure, Mrs. White. What kind of box did you say?” “Clinics. A clinics box.” She seemed a bit frustrated, which was unusual for her, so I didn’t press it any further. Clearly a clinics box must be some kind of first-aid kit, filled with items you might find at doctors’ ...