Joel Samberg

“Molly in the Morning” by Joel Samberg

Oh yes, all their kids are geniuses. No question. This one’s son is the best soccer player who ever played middle-school soccer. “You should see him use his head!!!” which is obviously always said out loud with not just one verbal exclamation point, but three. That one’s daughter is the best cheerleader who ever cheered for a varsity football team. “So personable! So popular!” (And when that one tells this story, she puts her hand over her mouth to make it seem as if she’s embarrassed to have to admit how awesome her not-so-awesome daughter ...

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“Shirley and Morris's Personalized Ashtrays” by Joel Samberg

Submitted to Contest #43

Dad died. He didn’t have to. He was only seventy-four, not overweight, walked long distances, had no family history of disease. But he smoked. A lot. Two-and-a-half packs a day for fifty-seven years. On his seventy-fourth birthday he was told he had lung cancer and emphysema. He was admitted to the hospital on Monday and was dead by Friday.  That was six months ago. Mom had lived in the same house with him in Springfield (the one in Massachusetts) since the year after they married in another Springfield (the one in Ohio; that’s a long s...

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“Davening on Avenue Y” by Joel Samberg

Submitted to Contest #42

I have been a municipal judge in the southern district of Brooklyn, New York for twenty-four years, but this morning was the first time I ever gave a police officer a $125 summons for violating Statute 10.3 of the Ticketing Religious People Code. If you’ll accept an ounce of honesty (to go along with the thirty extra pounds I happen to carry around), I am as fair and honest as they come. I never bend the law—but sometimes I allow good people to slip through a crack if they’re good citizens and the slipping through doesn’t hurt anyone e...

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“Art of Deception” by Joel Samberg

Submitted to Contest #42

“Evelyn, it’s gonna be a hell of a night,” Art says as he plops into one of the big, old, faded-blue easy chairs in the den. “A hell of a night.” Art, just on the other side of sixty-five, has finally put on his pajamas, bathrobe and slippers after spending more than an hour in his basement workshop trying to patch an old picture frame that Evelyn asked him to fix weeks ago. He had been glad for the task, for he had needed time alone to think. To plan. To come up with an idea. After all, he had something very heavy on his mind which...

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“Selective Emory” by Joel Samberg

Submitted to Contest #40

Emory Parker arrived at the Forked River service plaza off exit 76 on the Garden State Parkway at two o’clock on a summer midweek afternoon when the temperature was high and her expectations even higher.            Although a business meeting at a parkway rest stop was one of the least conventional things to which the attractive graphic artist had ever agreed, her acceptance gave her an earnest sense of optimism, both about her personal life and her career. Perhaps that was because her s...

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“One Hundred Fifty Nine Pounds Max” by Joel Samberg

Submitted to Contest #39

      On the first of July, early in the morning, a reporter from the Washington Post managed to track down Max at the office of his real estate agent in Annandale to ask for a comment. Max was standing on the backyard porch, looking up at the stars. Even though it was just after dawn, a few of the brighter stars were still visible.           “A comment? Sure,” Max said. “In three days it will be America’s independence day, and in four days it will be my ind...

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“The Sea Glass Menagerie” by Joel Samberg

Submitted to Contest #36

Wednesday, June 8 Arrived in Cape May about 3 o’clock this afternoon. Had a late start leaving the house because Billie wanted to buy a new bikini first. She should have done that a few days earlier, like me. But she’s Billie. Said she didn’t have time. Like I have a lot of time?The Bonnie June is a very pretty B&B. First thing I did (after we checked in) was try on my bikini. (Should have done that a few days earlier, but I REALLY didn’t have time. I had two boring school papers to write over the last two weeks.) Anyway, bikini looked o...

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“The Magic Pause Button” by Joel Samberg

Submitted to Contest #37

Tara and her husband Todd take a walk through the county-owned woodland behind their home. Tara smiles. The land may belong to the county, but the joy belongs to Tara. She loves the woods. So does Todd. The woods are filled with trees and wildflowers, pebbles and boulders, streams and lily pads, frogs and birds, clouds and sunshine, all things loved by Tara, and Todd too. “I love it,” Todd says.                        &nbs...

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