Nonfiction

“Let Me Fix Your Language, Germany,” by Robert McGee

Aug 15th, 2018 | By

Learning German is hard. For an English speaker, it’s nearly impossible to figure out why pizza is feminine unless it is an object. “Die Pizza—feminine subject—schemeckt fine,” but, “Kann ich ein Stuck von der Pizza—masculine object—haben?” I would like to think this happens because Germans are progressive, but I know that’s not true. Part of me knows it would be easier to remember if it were the other way around—masculine things become feminine when they are objects—but I hate that part of myself.



“Bend Over for Mama,” by Diane Callahan

Aug 8th, 2018 | By

Usually, I can escape unwanted situations with some degree of finesse. Other times, I am as graceful and articulate as a toddler, particularly when my mother is involved.

When my mom asked if I’d like a ten-session yoga pass for my birthday, I responded with a garbled, “Uhhh, not really, but thanks.” She interpreted this to mean “Yes, of course. I would be delighted to partake in mind-numbing torture at your fine training establishment.”



“Forget the P’s and Q’s: Mind your C’s and K’s, A Cautionary Note for Prospective Parents,” by John S. Walters

Jul 18th, 2018 | By

I am a lifelong liberal of good standing, with impeccable credentials. On one issue, however, I am an unabashed Goldwater conservative. If there’s one thing that raises my ancient hackles, it’s whenever I see the names Cathy and Casey defiled with a K. Why do parents of the newborn err so egregiously? Why favor the fraudulent over the authentic, particularly in matters of enduring importance?



“Spiritual B.O.,” by Claudia Fucigna

May 16th, 2018 | By

You might think patchouli, but that’s not what I mean. I mean spicy shoes left to fumigate by the door. Acrid plastic yoga mats made in China that will take Vedic ages of rebirth to break down in a landfill. Gluten-free soy candles blessed by Peruvian shamans that cost an arm and a leg. Burned sage sitting on top of a seven-layer dip of cologne created by human bodies in motion.



“I Should Listen to More Reggae,” by Diane Callahan

May 2nd, 2018 | By

I once pretended to be Jamaican for five minutes.

Considering the fact that I’m whiter than mozzarella and have lived in Ohio my entire life, this was no small feat.