Friday, February 1, 2008

"Life is Short- Autobiography as Haiku" - WPost

1) LIFE IS SHORT | Autobiography as Haiku
Sunday, November 19, 2006; Page D01

I come from Tehran and no, there are no camels where I come from. There are cars and honking taxis that pass women in black veils or short, colorful scarves that barely cover their heads. In this beautiful prison of banned dreams, there certainly isn't a statue of liberty; men and women liberate themselves with cafes, cigars, smuggled drugs and secret relationships. In America, I am a writer. I can imagine, dream, live, breathe as an Iranian, an American. I can add color to anything; if only I could paint the gray streets of Tehran with my words.

Elaheh Farmand

2) LIFE IS SHORT | Autobiography as Haiku
Sunday, January 23, 2005; Page D01

For many years, children were just short things I saw occasionally in shopping malls. I was a software engineer, cut down at age 23 not by the dot-com crash but by weak wrists. After a long interval where I, like Richard Kimble, toiled at many jobs, I now find myself guiding a classroom of preschoolers: 20 little dynamos between the ages of 3 and 6, each one half-animal, half-angel. My friends say, "You'll be really prepared when you have your own children!" I reply, "How could anyone ever be prepared for that?"

Adam Cooper

3) LIFE IS SHORT | Autobiography as Haiku
Sunday, July 22, 2007; Page D01

My teenage son was scanning the pantry. I asked him what he was looking for. "Mayonnaise." Hopeful that he would make his own lunch, I told him to look in the refrigerator. He shrugged and, expending as little effort as possible, walked to the fridge, opened its door and quickly declared, "It's not here." I knew it was there. I joined him at the refrigerator, immediately saw the mayonnaise, grabbed it, shoved it into his hands and asked, "Are you blind?" He stared at the jar. "No, are you deaf? I was looking for Band-Aids."

Maria McIntosh

July 22, 2007
What I need: round-trip bus tickets to New York, Advil, gas in my car, more money, a birthday card for Jean, to stop eating ice cream for breakfast, a way to move a futon to Boston, textbook money, a plan, a kitchen table.

What I want: new shoes, to lose five pounds, a nap, free everything, my cat on my stomach, better social skills, cooking classes, someone else to do the dishes, beer money, cheese fries, to smack some people, fewer doubts, to be there already.

What I have: two jobs, one more year of college, too much choice.

Christine Bath

May 6, 2007
We have plans to keep our children safe and prepared. We have fire drills. We have tornado and hurricane drills. We even have a protocol with a "to-go bag," in case of any emergency lockdown. Our Annandale preschool is vigilant. The explanations, with age-appropriate information, reassure and calm the children.

After this latest tornado drill, the all-clear sounded. Everyone did a good job listening and following directions. Mission accomplished. Thumbs up and high-fives all around!

Three-year-old Clay asked one important question. "When it comes, how big will the tomato be?"

Elizabeth Maguder


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