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MICHAEL TUCKER

Author. Playwright. Jolly Introvert.

NEWS

New Substack Story: THE KIDNEY STONE WHO CAME TO DINNER

New Substack Story: THE KIDNEY STONE WHO CAME TO DINNER

New Substack Story: THE KIDNEY STONE WHO CAME TO DINNER

“I have a kidney stone.” That’s my opener. Simple, evocative. Not unlike, “I had a farm in Africa …” Close your eyes and imagine...

Michael Tucker

Aug 161 min read

New Substack Story: SPUDS

New Substack Story: SPUDS

New Substack Story: SPUDS

In the tiny Umbrian village of Aqualoreto, there’s a piazza that’s barely big enough to call itself that; just two streets crossing at an...

Michael Tucker

Aug 91 min read

New Substack Story: SCIACCA

New Substack Story: SCIACCA

New Substack Story: SCIACCA

There were six of us for lunch on the deck of the Ristorante Lampara, which juts out over the fishing port of Sciacca. The fleet was...

Michael Tucker

Aug 51 min read

New Substack Story: SOLITUDE

New Substack Story: SOLITUDE

New Substack Story: SOLITUDE

When I’m mulling over a sentence, or even a phrase, every word I put down is a bookmark, holding the place until the cleverer me deigns...

Michael Tucker

Jul 271 min read

New Substack Story: WORDS

New Substack Story: WORDS

New Substack Story: WORDS

Over my mother’s dead body, my Aunt Lil taught me how to read. Lil was the oldest of the three Proser sisters and the smartest. She was...

Michael Tucker

Jul 231 min read

Subscribe to Michael's Substack:

Mike writes "personal essays about Food, The Ex-Pat Life, Senescence, Childhood, Puberty, Marriage, Sex, More Sex, Friends, and Other Things I Can't Remember:"

New Substack Story! THE MARRIAGE BED: Rita was coming this morning to clean the house, and we knew from long experience that the best way to help her was to get out of her way. So, we jumped in the car and headed to Bevagna, which is a little over a half-hour away. Friends who’d been staying with us went to Bevagna for the first time last week and flipped over it, which inspired us to go back for another hit. Thank you, friends; thank you, Rita... READ MORE on Substack! Link in bio.

#substackwriter #storytelling #umbria #italy @jilleikenberry @dystelgoderichandbourret

New Substack Story! THE MARRIAGE BED: Rita was coming this morning to clean the house, and we knew from long experience that the best way to help her was to get out of her way. So, we jumped in the car and headed to Bevagna, which is a little over a half-hour away. Friends who’d been staying with us went to Bevagna for the first time last week and flipped over it, which inspired us to go back for another hit. Thank you, friends; thank you, Rita... READ MORE on Substack! Link in bio.

#substackwriter #storytelling #umbria #italy @jilleikenberry @dystelgoderichandbourret

New Substack story! THE UMBRIAN MEAT WALL: I’m coming to the end of my second week in Umbria, and my diet plan is not working. The concept was simple: just refrain from eating pasta twice a day. Or occasionally, three times a day. This kind of self-imposed “regimen” is counter-intuitive to me, but let’s face it, folks -- if I eat pasta twice a day, every day, eventually I’m going to have to buy new pants, and that’s a Rubicon I’m unwilling to cross. So, my plan was to base my meals around meat -- pure protein, like the Paleo people did in the Stone Age. I’ll eat beautiful, tasty Umbrian meat -- pork from Norcia, the Pork Capitol of the World; lamb from the sheep grazing the sweet grass of the Umbrian foothills; and beef from the famous chianina cows that date back to Roman times. There’s a diet for you. READ MORE on Substack. Link in bio.

#umbria #italy #storytelling #substackwriter #foodie @jilleikenberry @dystelgoderichandbourret

New Substack story! THE UMBRIAN MEAT WALL: I’m coming to the end of my second week in Umbria, and my diet plan is not working. The concept was simple: just refrain from eating pasta twice a day. Or occasionally, three times a day. This kind of self-imposed “regimen” is counter-intuitive to me, but let’s face it, folks -- if I eat pasta twice a day, every day, eventually I’m going to have to buy new pants, and that’s a Rubicon I’m unwilling to cross. So, my plan was to base my meals around meat -- pure protein, like the Paleo people did in the Stone Age. I’ll eat beautiful, tasty Umbrian meat -- pork from Norcia, the Pork Capitol of the World; lamb from the sheep grazing the sweet grass of the Umbrian foothills; and beef from the famous chianina cows that date back to Roman times. There’s a diet for you. READ MORE on Substack. Link in bio.

#umbria #italy #storytelling #substackwriter #foodie @jilleikenberry @dystelgoderichandbourret

SOUND ON: you can now listen to the whole audio story read by yours truly on Substack. Link in bio. Don't forget to subscribe.

#theyellowroadster #substackwriter #storytelling @jilleikenberry @dystelgoderichandbourret

SOUND ON: you can now listen to the whole audio story read by yours truly on Substack. Link in bio. Don't forget to subscribe.

#theyellowroadster #substackwriter #storytelling @jilleikenberry @dystelgoderichandbourret

VIGILI DEL FUOCO: "Honey!" Jill was calling down from our bedroom, where she was in the middle of her morning routine. I was having a coffee with my friend, Francesco.

“Bianca just called,” says Jill. “The firemen are on their way.”

Let me explain: there’s an oak tree that stands just a few feet away from the pergola under which Francesco and I were having coffee, and in that oak tree is a hornet’s nest. And the hornets seem to think it’s their pergola. And they’re pissed about it. And the thing to do if you have hornets in our corner of Umbria is to call the Vigili del Fuoco, or the fire brigade, who also handle hornets -- for no charge, by the way...READ MORE on Substack. LINK IN BIO

#umbria #italy #substackwriter #storytelling @jilleikenberry @dystelgoderichandbourret

VIGILI DEL FUOCO: "Honey!" Jill was calling down from our bedroom, where she was in the middle of her morning routine. I was having a coffee with my friend, Francesco.

“Bianca just called,” says Jill. “The firemen are on their way.”

Let me explain: there’s an oak tree that stands just a few feet away from the pergola under which Francesco and I were having coffee, and in that oak tree is a hornet’s nest. And the hornets seem to think it’s their pergola. And they’re pissed about it. And the thing to do if you have hornets in our corner of Umbria is to call the Vigili del Fuoco, or the fire brigade, who also handle hornets -- for no charge, by the way...READ MORE on Substack. LINK IN BIO

#umbria #italy #substackwriter #storytelling @jilleikenberry @dystelgoderichandbourret

THE SAUSAGE AND CELERY SAGRA: Every year at this time, the town of Trevi, which is just up the road from us, has a festival to honor its most famous crop, the black celery of Trevi, which is green. But it's fine celery, and it's traditionally paired with pork sausages right off the grill. For three-and-a-half Euros, you can get two sausages stuffed into a roll that barely contains them. That's it -- no mustard, no sourkraut, no onions -- two fat, juicy, sizzling sausages - stuffed into a slightly crusty roll. It begs to be eaten immediately. Which is why I never got a picture of it.

#Trevi #sagra #foodie #italy @jilleikenberry

THE SAUSAGE AND CELERY SAGRA: Every year at this time, the town of Trevi, which is just up the road from us, has a festival to honor its most famous crop, the black celery of Trevi, which is green. But it's fine celery, and it's traditionally paired with pork sausages right off the grill. For three-and-a-half Euros, you can get two sausages stuffed into a roll that barely contains them. That's it -- no mustard, no sourkraut, no onions -- two fat, juicy, sizzling sausages - stuffed into a slightly crusty roll. It begs to be eaten immediately. Which is why I never got a picture of it.

#Trevi #sagra #foodie #italy @jilleikenberry

New story on Substack! THE ONIONS OF TROPEA: We like to take road trips. For us, it’s way preferable to flying – unless, you know, we’re going to New Zealand. The thing about road trips is that they’re not just about getting you to where you think you have to go. More often, they’re about the things that happen to you along the way. And those things can happen good or they can happen bad -- that’s part of the deal. That’s what makes road trips the whimsical little suckers they are -- because you travel without a plan, without a schedule. Now, that may not be your style. A lot of people like to schedule themselves up one side and down the other. Great, whatever gets you goin’. We like whimsy... READ MORE on Substack and subscribe! Link in bio.

#tropea #italy #travel #substackwriter #storytelling #foodie @jilleikenberry @dystelgoderichandbourret

New story on Substack! THE ONIONS OF TROPEA: We like to take road trips. For us, it’s way preferable to flying – unless, you know, we’re going to New Zealand. The thing about road trips is that they’re not just about getting you to where you think you have to go. More often, they’re about the things that happen to you along the way. And those things can happen good or they can happen bad -- that’s part of the deal. That’s what makes road trips the whimsical little suckers they are -- because you travel without a plan, without a schedule. Now, that may not be your style. A lot of people like to schedule themselves up one side and down the other. Great, whatever gets you goin’. We like whimsy... READ MORE on Substack and subscribe! Link in bio.

#tropea #italy #travel #substackwriter #storytelling #foodie @jilleikenberry @dystelgoderichandbourret

Hi, as you can see, we're in Umbria picking our olives. It's our favorite time of the year. But this is work, folks. Hard work. And, as you can see, it's not easy to find good help. Here's a poem I wrote about our trees:

THE FECUND TREE

O! fecund olive tree of yore
With branches hanging low
Today I shall unburden you
Then to the mill we’ll go!

I cannot reach the highest branch;
My arm’s not long enough.
If I don’t stop I’m sure to get
A torn rotator cuff.

The sun has now traversed the sky;
The stars begin to blink.
It’s time for me to go inside
And get myself a drink.

My back is tweaked, my ankles ache
I think I sprained my knee.
When all is said and done, I think
I hate this fecund tree.

Subscribe on Substack for more content! Link in bio.
#substackwriter #poetry #umbria @jilleikenberry @dystelgoderichandbourret

Hi, as you can see, we're in Umbria picking our olives. It's our favorite time of the year. But this is work, folks. Hard work. And, as you can see, it's not easy to find good help. Here's a poem I wrote about our trees:

THE FECUND TREE

O! fecund olive tree of yore
With branches hanging low
Today I shall unburden you
Then to the mill we’ll go!

I cannot reach the highest branch;
My arm’s not long enough.
If I don’t stop I’m sure to get
A torn rotator cuff.

The sun has now traversed the sky;
The stars begin to blink.
It’s time for me to go inside
And get myself a drink.

My back is tweaked, my ankles ache
I think I sprained my knee.
When all is said and done, I think
I hate this fecund tree.

Subscribe on Substack for more content! Link in bio.
#substackwriter #poetry #umbria @jilleikenberry @dystelgoderichandbourret

New story on Substack! JAZZ: Jill is acting in a play out of town, which means we’ll be apart for periods of time. Which is fine. In the old days, we were often apart, flying off to do this or that, a movie or a play out of town. We didn’t think twice about it. We were working – hallelujah! But the old days actually weren’t the old days -- they were the young days. These are the old days, and we’re not as nimble as we used to be. We’ve grown to rely on each other for certain things. I take care of this; she takes care of that; together we take care of the other. These touchstones remind us who we are to each other as the days flit by. When we were young, we didn’t need touchstones. We never gave a thought to the length of our days in those days... READ MORE on Substack! Link in bio.
#substackwriter #storytelling #jazz #jazzdrummer @jilleikenberry @maxtuckermusic @njrep @dystelgoderichandbourret

New story on Substack! JAZZ: Jill is acting in a play out of town, which means we’ll be apart for periods of time. Which is fine. In the old days, we were often apart, flying off to do this or that, a movie or a play out of town. We didn’t think twice about it. We were working – hallelujah! But the old days actually weren’t the old days -- they were the young days. These are the old days, and we’re not as nimble as we used to be. We’ve grown to rely on each other for certain things. I take care of this; she takes care of that; together we take care of the other. These touchstones remind us who we are to each other as the days flit by. When we were young, we didn’t need touchstones. We never gave a thought to the length of our days in those days... READ MORE on Substack! Link in bio.
#substackwriter #storytelling #jazz #jazzdrummer @jilleikenberry @maxtuckermusic @njrep @dystelgoderichandbourret

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