Mimicry is one of the many skills I don’t possess. Even so, the people I’ve known over the course of my life have made their mark on me, and I hear it in the expressions I’ve co-opted from them. I’ll always recall from my childhood with affection
1 When I picked up the ringing phone, I heard a recording of a man howling in agony. How despicable of a robo-caller to disseminate such a heart-rending sound. I hung up. Half an hour later, the phone rang again. It was my brother, crying, but now
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
Marshall McLuhan famously wrote, “The medium is the message.” My own experience suggests that theater can compete with the message. When a talking head appears on a political show on television, a viewer’s reaction might be less to the words they
In my childhood, I had many painful goodbyes with Dad, including two during my four months in hospitals when I was thirteen. One, the evening after I’d had a long operation, was compelled by the visiting hours that English hospitals strictly enforce.
Last Saturday, here in Brooklyn, the wind brought a freshness to an afternoon that otherwise would have been too hot. It brought to mind a late afternoon in Montreal forty-five years ago, even though this is now mid-spring and that was oppressive