The radiant profusion of alabaster white skin blubbering out from beneath clothing more suited for the tropics temporarily blinds you as people joyously run, skate, and bike down the lakefront path for the first time in months.
You’re asked to buy a Streetwise every half-block instead of every few blocks.
People no longer lunge for the heat lamp “on” button on the L platform the moment the timer runs out.
It is easier to imagine a flower sprouting from dead brown grass than frozen white grass.
Welcome to another annual edition of recommendations for your spooky Christmas needs. (Click here to skip right to the reviews.) Last year I mentioned the few contemporary remnants of the Victorian-era love of wintertime ghosts, but the linkage between short, dark days and the urge for flesh-tingling storytelling goes back a lot further than that. Shakespeare in A Winter’s […]
I turned 50 last month. It’s a funny age. Old for sure, but not ancient; closer to the end than the beginning, statistically. Maybe because of that memento mori I seemed naturally to be thinking less about the present and more about the future — a future far enough out that does not include me. […]
Friends! I turn 50 years old on August 4. I’ll pause for old person jokes, but please speak up. 50 is an arbitrary milestone, sure, but I got myself a pretty great gift and I’d like to tell you about it. August 4 will mark 1,000 days since I gave up alcohol. It’s been the […]
beer tastes way better when you can fire up the grill after work wearing shorts and your flip-flops
A very good point.