I want to remember 4. Blond curls, blue eyes and the excitement of a lollipop. Princess dresses, tutus and bangs that are too long. I want to remember what you said in the car that was so perfect, just a few hours ago, but now I can’t remember.
Strips 73-76 of the popular comic strip Molarity, which previewed in The Observer in 1977. Who wants to be a campus Casanova?
I have spent hours today on college savings accounts. I messed up the automatic deductions so they were coming from this account and they are supposed to be out of that account. With my oldest, somehow I messed up the portfolio allocations, and not in a good way.
Here’s a story. A boy is born in 1913, in Pittsburgh. His Irish father and German mother carry their first child up to a tiny white wooden house in the hills above the city. The boy proves to be an excellent student, quiet but thorough, and he itches to go to the University of Notre Dame.
A mini wind farm is about to sprout in White Field on the north edge of the ND campus this spring — if it hasn’t already.
Jack Heinrich has a legacy story at Notre Dame — a legacy of transfer students. “My aunt transferred in, and so did my grandfather,” the junior says. “All the members of my family who went here transferred.”
I’m sitting in the church parking lot, in a car with the engine running, waiting for a drop. I’ve got 40 bucks clenched in my fist, nervous that I won’t have it ready once she gets here. I’m worried that she won’t show.
Winning the Tour de France seven times, like hitting 70 home runs, seems almost impossible. Without artificial performance enhancement, a cancer survivor rolling down the Champs Elysees year after triumphant year at an advancing age in a sport known for rampant doping defies not just belief but biology.
“You are the eyes and ears of the neighborhood,” the police chief tells us at the neighborhood watch meeting. “Law enforcement counts on you to report any unusual activity.”
Welcome to Molarity Redux, the 18th strip in the updated, continuing adventures of Jim Mole and friends. Ah, reunion. The more things change …
The city council of Encinitas, California, must soon decide whether or not the most recent apparition of Our Lady of Guadalupe is an act of vandalism. Appearing on the wall of a railway bridge over Encinitas Boulevard last month, Mary stands expertly atop a white surfboard on a curling blue wave.
Seven months, 20 Notre Dame athletic events and 17 blogs later, I’ve limped to the finish line in my race to view all the Notre Dame varsity sports in a school year. We spectators don’t deserve monogrammed letter sweaters, but I’m still bummed that I never did catch a free T-shirt.
Before I had children of my own, I made certain judgments about other people’s parenting. I mean, really, how hard could it possibly be to travel with a young child on an airplane? My penance for not being more compassionate? God is really sticking it to me on this one.
If you subscribe to Saint Anselm’s notion of theology as “faith seeking understanding,” it is difficult to imagine how, exactly, a theologian “retires,” but a professor certainly can, and Lawrence S. Cunningham, John A. O’Brien Professor of Theology at Notre Dame, will do so next year.
At 3 o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon, I am sitting on a bench in a children’s museum listening to an exhibit ask what the difference is between boogers and snot. I think the answer is obvious.
For several innings, it appeared that bat boy Zach might be the Irish MVP during the May 1 Notre Dame baseball game vs. Seton Hall. First, the crowd serenaded him for his 12th birthday, much to his head-ducking embarrassment. Then, with Seton Hall ahead 3-0, Zack left the dugout and easily caught a foul ball as it rolled off the overhead safety nets.
Notre Dame historian Father Marvin O’Connell likes to tell a story about one of the first of the numerous books he has written, Thomas Stapleton and the Counter Reformation. He gave a copy to his mother, who told him she planned to read it during Lent. “After finishing the first chapter,” he says, “she let me know that she had changed her mind. She’d decided not to read the book and to give up chocolate instead.”
The irrepressible Chuck Lennon ‘61, ’62M.A. might never slow down but the inimitable alumni director says he’s retiring this summer.
Strips 63-67 of the popular comic strip Molarity, which previewed in The Observer in 1977.
As you walk along the winding sidewalk toward the beautiful Melissa Cook Stadium on the southeast corner of campus, it’s easy to spot the long-time fans of the Notre Dame softball team. They’re the ones carrying blankets.
Time lapse video of the construction of Notre Dame’s Compton Family Center ice facilities.
Word of Ohio State football players receiving “preferential treatment” from the owner of a Columbus tattoo parlor reached NCAA headquarters, where preserving the game’s honor supersedes all other priorities.
Ah, the Hollywood life of a screenwriter: making a pitch to Steven Spielberg, working with legendary animator Chuck Jones, selling a script for three-quarters of a million bucks. As James Jennewein ’77 will tell you, such red carpet moments are interspersed with real life.
My son is standing on the sidewalk covered in blood. He’s got a gash on his chin and a tongue that looks like someone took a steak knife to it. Pogo stick. I’m trying to decide if I have to take him to the emergency room. I am grappling with the conflict between my role as parent and the truth: I don’t want to go.
Notre Dame tennis teams frequently lost games to the South Bend weather. But once the indoor Eck Tennis Pavilion was built, right next to the outdoor Courtney Tennis Center, neither rain nor snow could stop a match. Advantage, Notre Dame tennis.
It was a celebration of many things: Of the three-decade-long career of a pro-life leader, of an academic institution’s rededication to the defense of society’s most vulnerable, and of a new and conspicuous way to honor such commitments.
Drones, royal weddings, Paradise Lost, and a potentially monumental Supreme Court case are among the topics dealt with in this edition of Networthy ND.
The usher at the April 23 Notre Dame women’s lacrosse game halted my entry into Arlotta Stadium. “There’s free barbecue in that tent,” he said, pointing off to the side. “You should try it.” As anyone who attends ND sporting events knows, it’s not wise to argue with an usher.
Today is James’ birthday party. “Choo Choo James is turning Two!” read the invitation. This morning I received a text from his mother. “James has a cold and cough and totally understand if you don’t want to expose your children!” I remember when I used to send out similar messages, back when I was a new mother, one who hovered.
The word “individualism,” I fear, is going the way of such related words as “freedom,” “independence” and “self.” All these words have evolved so many meanings by now that they’re almost meaningless.