About Alison Leslie Gold

Posts by Alison Leslie Gold:

A new addiction

Not nose drops. Not chocolates. Not cashmere sweaters. Not roulette. Not porno. Not showering. Not hand-wringing. Not nit-picking. Not hair-twirling. Not pistachio nuts. Not long drives along the Oregon coast. Not $25 foot rubs.  It’s affecting my brain and body, it’s compulsive; has disrupted my social life. Question: If left untreated over time, will it(…)


Blowing on the embers

Following, a paragraph taken from the home page of the dazzling blog “Part of blowing so damn hard on the embers is to bring back the tastes of childhood, my mother’s expatriate Danish cooking, my Father’s Eastern European specialties like his sweet Tzimmes and half sour tomatoes, my Aunt’s traditional Danish farmhouse fair and(…)



Once the freshly washed laundry has been pulled from the washer and carried across the laundry room, it gets stuffed into a dryer. No big deal. Just now, though, as I loaded wet teal-blue sheets, underwear, dishtowels, socks, cloth table napkins and more, hand-over-fist, I gripped what felt like a scissors buried inside a twisted(…)


Becoming a stranger to

It seems that a few of our so called ’emotional supports’ and/or ’emotional comforts’ are turning into strangers; some with, some without, consent. Service peacocks, turkeys – out of the blue – (willy-nilly) just now forbidden on airplanes, on trains, cruise ships, in halfway houses, gyms. Also ‘under review’ for possible expulsion – ‘hedgehogs, ferrets, insects, rodents,(…)


Lucky 2s

For years the numbers 2*2 or 2*2*2*2 or numbers that are multiples of two brought me luck, often with my writing (sales, translations, a prize …) or with safe travel, and in other arenas. They still do. The origin of this superstition: James Joyce’s birthday – 2/2 – the publication of Ulysses – 2/2/1922 –(…)



Needing cash, on a “bible-black” night (to borrow Dylan Thomas’ phrase) I veered to the right off 9th Avenue into my local (open-round-the-clock) Gristedes Super Market. Along the path to onions and avocados, a fee-less ATM machine. Password tapped, grinding of gears, out fluttered crisp bills (a pack of $20s) that I swept up, thick(…)