Today is International Women’s Day.
As for me, I’m a “ladies man,” but not in the way you are familiar with the term.
My happiest childhood memories are of one summer with my grandmother, Eleanor, fishing, trapping critters, hiking up the rock piles around Phoenix (called “mountains”), and getting thrown by her into a fenced yard to fight my own personal bully “to the death” as she placed a $5 bet on me as the sure winner, with the bully’s mom, no less.
Stuff like that.
She was wonderful.
Her daughter, Laura Emily, was wonderful too. She raised four kids as a single mom, of which I was the oldest. This woman was a force of beauty and strength to be reckoned with. One time I watched with shock and delight as she jumped with her little body onto the back of a man nearly twice her size—my “new dad”—holding onto his neck with her left arm and punching him in the head with her right fist, screaming, “Don’t you …
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