The Regular Riot

I lost a friend this year. He wasn’t my best friend. He had never been my boyfriend. He was not even a friend that I had seen very recently, but he was a dear friend from my youth - someone…

Thanks to my husband, Sean J. Kennedy, who produced this video, I enjoyed a dream-com-true type of experience when I saw my snare drum recording side-by-side with legendary percussionist, Dame Evelyn Glennie. The common thread between us is that we…

It was a Sunday and I was working at church the morning that my husband, Sean’s, composition was premiering at Carnegie Hall, and since I had to head out to get there so early, we decided to leave my car…

A Band-Aid on the Battlefield 

I’ve been trying to write something new, but now does not feel like the time for the recording of musings and shenanigans, which are very much woven into the fabric of this blog.  

There are…

This Sunday looks a lot different than any before in our corner of the world, even last week. Normally, at this time on Sunday afternoon, just as many of us are returning home from church, the gym, or visiting friends…

When I was a little kid, my heart would drop and pound wildly whenever President Reagan addressed the nation from the Oval Office. Usually, by the time he appeared on the screen, I had absorbed droplets of news here and…

The dreary months of January and February are notoriously depressing, especially in the northern states where the bareness of the trees, the grayness of the sky, and the sharpness of the wind serve as natural antidotes to rays of sunshine…

A few years ago, I winced when the optometrist bluntly predicted, “The progressive lens. Not yet, but soon.” Progressive lenses. Bifocals. Spectacles. It all sounded to me like a little, old lady, Edna Broadbottom, sitting behind a gray, oversized typewriter…

Here’s a newsflash for men and boys everywhere: You don’t have to be an athlete to be awesome. 

One of my favorite pastimes is watching 5-year-olds play tee-ball, not because it’s inspirational to usher children into a new era of…

Have you seen the photo of the newborn babies in the hospital in Pittsburgh, wearing red sweaters in honor of Mr. Rogers? It is nothing short of heartwarming, and of course, is a well-deserved nod to a man who taught…

I was three years old when the Osmonds rocked my world, and despite the dim, fragmented, early childhood memories I have of the seventies, the regularly maintained Friday night routine from 1976-1979 remains crystal clear.  

After bathtime, my parents would…

It was my first year back to full-time teaching on a regular basis, and later that morning I was scheduled to meet with the Director of Instruction to review what was his first observation of my class this school year…

When my husband, Sean, was in eighth grade, his class planned a field trip to New York City. The trip, of course, was a monumental event for kids living near Philadelphia back in the 1980s and would cost $80. His…

Every year on Thanksgiving, usually running late (as we were this year), we drive to Clifton Station to meet up with the family, and head into the city to see the Philadelphia parade. The set-up is one in which the…

There have not been many scenes in my life more poignant than watching my four children and their four cousins, all between the ages of 7 and 18,  say goodbye to their grandfather (my father-in-law) in the back of the…

09 September 2016   

I admit it – I love my birthday. Really, who doesn’t?  Between the cake, the ice cream, the balloons and the good wishes, I never met a birthday I didn’t like. I can’t understand how…

02 July 2016 

We’ve all passed them on the boardwalks, the musty Old Time Photo shops, where customers line up in droves to have portraits taken in gangster, flapper, cowboy or pirate attire, against antiquated backdrops, holding timeworn props…

12 March 2016 

“What did you say?” I ask with a tinge of disgust, “My ears are screaming right now.” 

That’s what I tell my husband and children, when the sounds of tinnitus are unbearably loud, drowning out…

05 March 2016 

It’s happening again. Waking in a panic with confusion and worry. Becoming overly emotional at commercials and cartoons. Desperately trying to savor, if not record, every blessed moment, as a response to the sensation of impending…

05 February 2016 

It’s hard to believe, especially as a child, that your grandparents were ever young. What’s even harder to envision is that they were ever in love, in the whistling-“That’s-Amore”, buying-boxes-of-chocolates sense. Sure, they held hands, to…