On Easter Sunday, a neighbor sent me the following email: Just wanted to let you know that [my husband] came down with little sniffles yesterday. We thought it may be just allergies, but it didn’t go away after he took his allergy meds. He doesn’t
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James Bond and the Errant Shrubs
My intrepid friend, Neil, likes to read books about intrepid adventurers. Subscribers to this blog have met Neil (not his real name) before in my account of an awkward party. Late one Saturday afternoon last month, he headed to the pub to finish
Eyam
In the depths of England's Great Plague of 1665-1666, the Derbyshire village of Eyam isolated itself in order not to spread the infection to other villages. Eyam (pronounced "Eem") is situated in the county of Derbyshire, a few miles south of
Accommodation: A Story
Wordgathering has published my story, "Accommodation," in its current issue. Here's the link: https://wordgathering.com/vol14/issue1/fiction/spratt/
Lincoln Should Have Let the South Go
I have long wished the Confederate states had been allowed to secede. My reservation is that secession would have prolonged slavery. Although I have read arguments that even in an independent South, slavery couldn't have endured, the institution
Party Quandaries
To his surprise, my friend Neil was recently invited to a former neighbor's housewarming party at her new home. Neil's vision, never great, has deteriorated in recent years. He took a taxi there and was greeted at the door by the host, his former
Equal Opportunity
I was honored this week when The New Yorker printed a version of a letter I submitted in response to an article discussing the enigmatic notion of equality. You can read the published version of my letter here. It's impossible for me to read that
The Headmaster’s Letter
I have just learned of a touching act of generosity by the headmaster of a school I attended long ago. For logistical reasons, and possibly also for cultural ones, it would be neither possible nor needed today. In July 1967, I completed my second
All Lies Are Not Equal
You lie, I lie, we all lie. Especially politicians, right? Is there anywhere a handhold of truth we can cling to? In Nana Krame Adjei-Brenyah's apocalyptic story, "The Era," included in Best American Short Stories 2019), truthtellers have taken
A Touch of Grace
An awkward situation for all concerned can be when a parent and young child encounter a blind person walking with a white cane. How many times have I, that person with the cane, heard the child say something like, "Mommy, what's that?" or "Daddy, why
The Appointment: A Story
If I tell Tricia that blonde doesn't look good on her, she'll be annoyed. She'll think I'm harping on again about being old. Well, we're both getting old—are old. Why is it that helping friends always gets you into trouble? Not that Tricia's
Dare We Enjoy Work by Authors Who Have Behaved Badly?
1 Is it wrong to appreciate works created by artists who have done bad things? These days the quandary arises around #MeToo transgressions, but it has been around for as long as there has been art. The question comes to my mind in connection with a
Garden of Remembrance
I got pushback against my claim in last week's post that much of the nation hijacked the September 11 tragedy that befell Manhattan's Financial District. Superficially, the historical record supports the pushbacker view. Everyone around the country
September 11 and the Hazards of Writing About a Friend
1 A recent experience has caused me to consider yet again the difficulties inherent in writing about someone else, above all a friend. An essay I worked on for two weeks caused such distress to a good friend that I abandoned the project before
Soundtrack
Think of a song, and chances are you’ll think of a moment or a someone. Think of another song, and you’ll probably think of another moment, another someone. A piece of music might pop up when you call to mind a parent, a child, a friend, a certain
Dad: My Memorial Speech for Harold Anthony Spratt
Anticipating my speech at Dad’s memorial service, I was determined to deliver it fluently and with conviction. I have visually impaired friends who memorize their speeches, but it’s a talent I’ve never acquired. Instead, I braille sequential phrases
Disability Goes to the Movies
I’ve been asked to comment on an influential foundation’s report advocating for greater participation by disabled people in movies and on television. In case my comments have broader interest, below is the slightly edited response I
Integrity: A Story
Could I have saved us? Despite my better judgment, this question haunts my sleep. Perhaps the most basic flaw in our Recoline civilization is that we forget history. To recite what ought to be common knowledge, the Magnitokes were a genetic
The Last Goodbye
In my childhood, there were several occasions when Dad and I had to say goodbye. Two that were especially painful occurred during my four months of hospitalization when I was thirteen. The evening after I’d had a long operation, Dad was compelled
In My Beginning
Last Saturday, here in Brooklyn, the wind brought a freshness to an afternoon that otherwise would have been too hot. I felt a vague sense of some yet earlier afternoon, a memory I couldn’t quite place, then or now. It is hidden behind the veils of
Prayers for the Reluctant
When someone offers to say a prayer for us, can it be offensive? My religion-skeptic father is seriously ill. One of his friends prayed for him right there in the hospital room, while another said she would do so on her own. Ever unwilling to rock
Can Morality Move the Needle ?
When does morality make a difference? This question came to mind as I listened to a Freakonomics podcast on possibly viable meat alternatives and the environmental damage done by meat production. One of the podcast’s interviewees, Mike Selden,
Crane in the Clouds
Up there, in the mist and passing clouds, is a yellow crane: not the bird, but the manmade mechanism whose arm rises as it lifts heavy objects, moves sideways somewhere, then lowers as it deposits them. How can a heavy machine like a crane stay so
The Cougar Within Us
A beloved uncle and aunt, husband-and-wife farmers, named their first cow Rebecca, a lovely, sweet-tempered red and white Ayrshire, and we all fell for her. My uncle and aunt couldn’t bring themselves to have her killed, and so she died of old age.
Must Politics Dictate Art?
I’ve just finished reading the 2018 edition of Houghton Mifflin Harcourt’s venerable Best American Short Stories (BASS), and I feel I’ve been brought up to date with my politics, above all, the political grievances I ought to feel. But should