Wednesday, February 28, 2024
Home Islander Essays Woodside Story

Woodside Story

Woodside Story: No more hating

Yeah, the two sides of our country’s political struggles find each other, truly, revolting. But this is just the nauseating view developed from watching the news, something some of us have tried to avoid....

Woodside Story: Pass the readers

I’m here to tell you that some of us still enjoy reading. All the same, as a lifelong reader, writer, and bookstore owner (Sun Porch Books in Oak Bluffs, 2002 to 2008), I can’t believe...

Woodside Story: The joy of pets

For those of us seniors who love animals — seemingly loving them beyond life itself (come on, admit it, it’s that meaningful) — figuring out a way to make our last chapter desirable can...

Woodside Story: The boogeyman of old age

It probably wouldn’t matter to us if the only downside to elderliness was, well, to put it bluntly, looking crappy. We do endure that awful specter; crepey skin, gray hair standing in tufts on...

Woodside Story: Ancestors

So your mother was an opera singer who married an American G.I., and yet continued to keep her bonds with her arty and famous family members in Milan? And, get this: During World War...

Woodside Story: Strength training

It’s not just kids who dream about being superheroes. I’m thinking everybody at every age would like to be stronger. Tougher. When I was a wee one back in the 1950s, I adored the...

Woodside Story: No need to panic

We think we prepare for being old — or, to use a more shuddery word, elderly — but we don’t, do we? We back away, don’t we? And then suddenly we have to face the...