Carlson

The hardest part of pool is knocking the balls into those holes. Photo by: Nancy Carlson

John Carlson: Life Behind The 8 Ball

By: John Carlson— A friend recently offered me a refresher course on playing pool, but all I needed help with was that part of the game involving hitting a ball with a stick into one of those tiny holes in a felt-covered table. The rest I had down pat. Like,…


Remember these? They were called “typewriters.” Photo by: graphicstock

John Carlson: Young Typist Lacked Touch

By: John Carlson— The other day on Facebook, I saw a meme or whatever you call it that asked how many people remembered high school typing classes? I sure as heck do. Once, I even took such a class. This was due to the fact that, because of the many…


These cabinets are so out of style, they’re scary. Photo by: Nancy Carlson

John Carlson: Redoing The, Gulp, Kitchen

By: John Carlson— After 36 years of marriage, I have finally figured out what separates the women from the men, the ladies from the gents, the chicks from the dudes, the babes from the … well, you get it. Redoing your kitchen. Greg, our neighbor and head guy from Richard’s…


A burrito capped by thickly folded tortilla nearly did him in. Photo by: Nancy Carlson

John Carlson: Breathe Easy, Darling

By: John Carlson— An interesting thing happened to me the other night. I nearly died. OK, that’s probably a little too dramatic, a slight exaggeration. But within three or four minutes, had my wife Nancy not been around, I might have drifted up to my heavenly reward. Given my history…


The Star Follies included some beautiful young dancers. Photo by: Robert Dirden

John Carlson: It’s a fact! Burlesque is back!

By: John Carlson— One recent Saturday night, Nancy and I and a couple hundred other people attended the Star Follies burlesque show. I am pretty sure the production made a nice haul for Muncie Civic Theatre, and in doing so fulfilled a worthwhile goal. Was it fun? Sure. Was it…


Cross-country skiing is very good for you, supposedly. By: graphicstock

John Carlson: Skiing to Heck And Back

By: John Carlson— The other day I was nursing a beer at The Fickle  Peach while watching a preliminary Winter Olympics qualifying event for the biathlon. You know the biathlon, right? It’s the event that combines cross-country skiing with shooting. The contestants scoot long distances over the snow with rifles…


Nobody ever said that giving up cigarettes would be easy. Photo by: Nancy Carlson

Carlson: Addiction? No Butts About It

By: John Carlson— Opioid addiction is far more horrific, I know, but I’m always amazed by the addictive power of cigarettes, and what big business fighting that addiction has become. Kicking cigarettes was the hardest thing I ever did. I have a creeping feeling this was because I had my…


Nothing’s prettier than a plump, tasty chicken gizzard. Photo by: Nancy Carlson

John Carlson: In Praise of Chicken Gizzards

By: John Carlson— Every now and then I get an overpowering urge to eat a food so deliciously down-home and wholesome, I just have to go out and chomp some. By that, of course, I mean chicken gizzards. No, no. Not livers. Can’t say I’ve ever been much of a…


Renewing the pleasure of pimiento cheese spread brings a smile. Photo by: Nancy Carlson

John Carlson: For The Love of Groceries

By: John Carlson— Once I heard a story about a Russian visitor to the United States back in the Cold War days, a woman who was sure tales of our country’s abundance were merely government propaganda. Even while casually strolling through an American supermarket, she staunchly maintained her righteous sense…


Squawkers in your ears meant the party was a good one. Photo by: Nancy Carlson

John Carlson: Old Folks Sleep In The New Year

By: John Carlson— Come Sunday, like millions of other American geezers, Nancy and I will be celebrating a traditional New Year’s Eve for Oldsters. Yeah, I know. We’re pathetic. It wasn’t that long ago we would gather with our wild and crazy friends to ring in the New Year with…


Al Holdren is pictured in his office standing beside hundreds of photos of thousands of volunteers who participate in "Secret Families." Photo by: Mike Rhodes

John Carlson: Muncie Has Christmas Angels

By: John Carlson— With Christmas rapidly approaching, I feel compelled to offer a belated but heartfelt “thank you” to Al Holdren and the scores of Secret Families volunteers, folks who selflessly give of their time and money to make this holiday a great one for others. The breadth of their…


An Australian racing barstool rests, nearly obscured, in Lear Unlimited. Photo by: John Carlson

John Carlson: Little Racer Packed a Punch

By: John Carlson— If you are under the misguided notion that playing football is the optimum way to suffer a brain-rattling concussion, you’ve probably never driven an Australian racing barstool. I, on the other hand, have. This was due to the largesse of the folks at Lear Unlimited over in…


Properly employed, ugly sweat pants work like a calorie counter. Photo by: Nancy Carlson

John Carlson: A New Cool Food Tool

By: John Carlson— If you’re like me, engaged in that never-ending fight against flab, you know how handy it can be to keep track of caloric intake by simply jotting down notes recording your food consumption. Feeling a little bloated, but can’t imagine why? Consulting your notes may remind you…


If you could read my screech, love, what a tale the notes would tell...Photo by: Nancy Carlson

John Carlson: Too Late To Be A Troubadour

By: John Carlson— The other day I heard a terrible screeching, kind of like a cat in heat, that made my proverbial skin crawl. Then I realized it was me, singing. This amazed me, because there was a time when my voice was pretty good. Back in high school, for…


Swedish meatballs on rice with some lingonberry jam. Photo by: Nancy Carlson

John Carlson: Having A (Meat) Ball

By: John Carlson— Not long ago, my wife met my daughter down at Indy’s new IKEA store for some female bonding while shopping. Unfortunately, I was unable to join them there amongst the frantic bustling of the excited shopping hordes, mostly because I’d have rather been dead. I must say,…