Antonia, a warm, famously doe-eyed woman in her thirties, was one of three receptionists at my former law office. Their long desk was in an area accessible to members of the public, while the rest of us worked safely behind code-locked doors. We
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
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
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
Stephen Colbert looks at a black man and declares, “I don’t see race.” Don Quixote catches sight of windmills and sees giants, along with the opportunity for a glorious knight’s errand. The idealism in both instances is both laughable and laudable.
This 73-page post is a compilation of the nineteen excerpts from my unpublished Darien High School memoir that I posted individually to my website between May and November of 2018. To repeat, almost all names are changed, along with some personal