Characters

It’s the essence of hometown, the hub of local buzz, the street of strong opinion. It’s where shoppers vote with their feet — and credit cards — about what’s hot and what’s not. It’s where lifetime residents linger over breakfast and up-and-comers meet for lunch. It’s where the waitress knows “your usual” and the dry cleaner knows exactly how you like your shirts pressed. It’s the home of hotdog stands, coffee shops, 3rd generation shoe stores and haberdasheries. It’s where you bought your first — and fifth — refrigerator, bicycle, piece of fine art, and pair of expensive earrings. It’s a trial-by-fire-testing ground for hopeful entrepreneurs, a tried-and-true home base for successful business owners. It’s where mom and pop shops come to live or die. It’s got the sidewalks skateboarders love, and the crosswalks pedestrians and motorists ignore. It’s where the past, present and future meet. It’s where local history shines and innovation revitalizes. In the winter it sparkles wi

Google the definition of “character” and you’ll find his bio and mug shot. A Viet Nam vet who’s fought tooth and nail on the battlefield and in life, Woody has taught me more about faith, honesty, friendship and survival than he’ll ever know. He may dress up like a responsible adult, but the earring, ponytail, ink and jeans tell the true story. This guy's a little bit hippy, little bit biker, lotta bit dad, with a more than a few tightly-muzzled military ghosts circling his head. A perplexing blend of contradiction, this salty, surly, cussing, encouraging, witty, wise old dog can prompt a belly laugh and bring me to tears all in the same breath. The mischievous twinkle in his eye tells you he’s got something up his sleeve, but the slump of his shoulders reveals a lifetime of struggle and hard labor. Rightly so. He outlasted Viet Nam. And along with his forever-ravishing wife, he raised a beautiful family, built a wonderful home, and earned a solid living. Oh. And he also s

Emergency medical professionals — some do it right and some do it wrong. I met both kinds yesterday. A sharp, escalating pain in my left arm, accompanied by numbness and tingling in my left hand had me on edge about whether or not I was experiencing the onset of a heart attack. Symptoms lingered through the night and into the next day. My apprehension grew. I hedged. I debated. And as I was weighing the pros and cons of getting it all checked out (and paying the bill if it turned out to be a false alarm), I flashed back a few years to my younger brother's near-death experience. He was out for a walk and felt similar symptoms. He walked back home, drove himself to the hospital a few blocks away (bad idea, but the only option at the time) where he received a check over. Shortly after that he was admitted to the ER, where he arrested. Thankfully ER staff and equipment were both close at hand, and he survived, I believe, because of his quick, decisive, cautionary action. So I grudgin