Joy to the World


Dear Laughing, Stamping, Clapping, and Pointing Man on the Corner of 4th Av. S and 4th Street:

Your untrammeled glee at that big-ass truck swiping my parking spot in spectacular fashion was so profound that I ain’t even mad. I can only be humbled by having brought so much joy to another human being that early in the morning.

Dear Guy In the Big Ass Truck Who Stopped In The Middle of 4th Street to Back Sideways into A Parking Spot at the corner on 4th Avenue in Such A Strange And Unexpected Way That I Can’t Adequately Describe It:

You were in too much of a hurry as you sprinted into the courthouse with that paperwork (and good luck with whatever that was)  to see the spectacular pas de deux you and I performed for our fellow man. You don’t even know that you made the world a slightly better place this morning. Nonetheless, I salute you.   

— No, really not even mad because it was too awesome and also I found another spot fairly close right away.

Dear Bitter Butch: Why Can’t He Take Teasing?


Dear Bitter Butch,

I’m a lucky woman in many ways. I’ve been married for 12 years to a great guy who earns well, is a great dad to our two boys and is mostly fun to be around. Trouble is he can’t seem to tolerate any teasing from me. I always back it up, apologize honestly because I don’t want to cause pain but this is getting really old. Teasing and ribbing is supposed to be fun for each other. I welcome his jesting and laugh uproariously when he gets a good jab in but he can’t seem to accept it from me. We’ve talked about it in therapy but we don’t seem to get anywhere with it. How can we get past this?

– Bored in Baltimore

Dear Bored,

You want to get past this? Then stop. You’re bored, but he’s hurting.

Read the rest of my answer at

Dear Bitter Butch: How Do I Handle a Possibly Disabled Bicyclist After an Accident?


Dear Bitter Butch,

The other day in my van, when exiting a parking lot and joining traffic, I struck a cyclist whom I didn’t see because he was coming at me against traffic from behind a relatively blind corner. (Everybody is fine.) My issue is that the fellow, who was alone, seemed to have a disability of some kind, but which of course I was unfit to identify–perhaps it was only some deafness or a speech impediment, but perhaps he had a major developmental disability or past head trauma. Whatever it is, it seemed relevant to the accident in a couple of ways. . .

Read the rest of my letter and my answer at