G-Is for String is now available in Ebook, paperback and audiobook by Audible!
G-Is for String: Oh, Canada! and Save One Bullet are also available on Amazon in Ebook and Paperback.
A Merry Little Christmas to Us
My cruiser partner and long-time buddy, Tucker, had invited me to his place so I didn't have to face spending Christmas Eve alone after our brutal call earlier in the night. We had been dispatched to look for a missing senior citizen, who ended up wandering away from a home and freezing to death. We were both pretty shaken up by her death and didn't need to be alone and thinking about what we could have done better to prevent it.
Body Bag Barry
Recently, I was searching on an online dating site. Don't ask me why. I'm happily married. Perhaps I just wanted to see if I was as invisible as I felt. After the first fifteen minutes with a current photo on my profile, twenty or so eager fellows were sending me hearts and asking to chat. Wow. After an hour, there was a steady stream of requests to meet or chat.
The call came in at 9:45 the Saturday before New Year's. All the alarms had gone off at Dickerson Elementary School. That meant the fire department, rescue squad, and my partner and I would be showing up, along with a bunch of other bored officers. Not that we mind boring. Boring is good for us. Boring is safe and preferable to exciting, which can be dangerous.
The Death of Burlesque
Burlesque’s Tragic Demise In January of 1974, I left my college dorm for the last time and headed for the big city of Rochester, New York to begin my new career. All it took for me to toss my graduation cap into the air and don a sequined G-String was the opportunity to dance my heart out every night and get paid for it. After having danced on Broadway in my mind since I turned five, that was a dream come true.
Snow Much Fun
Snow Much Fun Tina D’Angelo In my twenties, I lived with a violent man who towered over me at 6’4”. I was a slight 4’11”. When I say that I lived with this man, I mean that I was his prisoner. I was allowed to work and give him my paycheck. I was allowed to go grocery shopping with him and to bars or restaurants he chose to visit.
Carve Your Name into My Heart
The 911 missing person call from the Sunnyside Nursing Home came in at 8:45 PM on Christmas Eve. My partner and I had signed on for the extra holiday shift because we didn't have a family waiting at home for us. We were just a couple of twice-divorced, bitter single folks counting down the hours to retirement, living on donuts, coffee, and adrenalin.
- Top Story - December 2023
What My Therapist Doesn't KnowTop Story - December 2023
It's a freezing day in December, almost Christmas. My breath puffs out like clouds of cigarette smoke in the clear night air of the motel parking lot. At the moment, I wish it was cigarette smoke because I can't remember being this nervous in a very long time. Maybe the Christmas Eve service twenty years ago, when a pushy grandmother shoved her mini-skirted teen granddaughter up to the piano in our little Baptist Church and plopped an unfamiliar piece of music before me, stating, "Missy is going to sing. Play this."
Save One Bullet
My mind was wandering and I was thinking about the upcoming evening with Rick, when one of my students barfed all over her dress and the floor, causing the child next to her to gag and vomit also. Janitor time. I had to call the office and herd the class out of the room until it was cleaned up.
The Death of Class
Too bad I couldn’t have bottled that weekend with my boyfriend, Jake, and carried it around in my pocket for the next month. Every day I convinced myself that either he had forgotten about me and was happily back home with his wife trying to procreate, or he had met another girl as dumb as I was and had forgotten me.
G-Is for String
Chapter 6 Soon after I began putting together my new shows, Don, my agent, decided it was time to send me on tour in Ohio. Four cities, one week each in Akron, Columbus, Cleveland, and Youngstown. The big times. I packed up my new music and costumes and boarded the bus to Ohio at the Greyhound station on a drizzly, gray Sunday afternoon. Sunday would be my traveling day for the next thirteen years whenever I was on the road.
Chapter 8 On Saturday morning, I was up first and grabbed the bathroom before the other dancers soiled it. After my hair had dried, I got dressed and threw my winter gear on to walk to confession. The other day when I went uptown to the Immigration Office, I saw a Catholic Church about five or six blocks from Hanrahan's strip club, and I marched off in that direction.