Today Leslie brought home a letter that she’s kept at her office for months. I reproduce it here, unedited, in honor of the commitment and devotion that I’ll be celebrating on Valentine’s Day, even if it makes me look like a love-sick puppy. (She...
It’s been three years since Marshawn Lynch ignited Century Link Stadium. Remember, sports fans? Seahawks v. Saints. Wild-card play-off. Home team advantage. Less than four minutes left. Lynch breaks eight tackles and runs for 67 yards. Game-clinching touchdown....
I stayed in an assisted living facility during my holiday trip back to Boston; briefly and temporarily, not permanently. My parents moved from their rambling, charming, historic house on five acres in New England to a much more circumscribed facility for seniors in a...
I bundled up before leaving my condo on a frigid night to take Gus for his last run. Two-tone puffy jacket. Sleek ski hat. New gloves. Thick cords. I felt stylishly protected. Once out the door, Gus bolted down the ramp by the side of our building on Jackson Street in...
Every weekend, I roll to the farmer’s market. Rain or shine. Summer and winter. I’m lucky to live in a part of the world where outdoor markets are well-stocked and supported. This time of year, I go for Nash’s sweet carrots, Russian Kale or Rainbow...
It’s hard to be Leslie. Sometimes. She tries so hard to do everything and be everything. Full tilt at life until it all gets too much for her. When she gets sick, she gets really, really sick. Like many beautiful souls, she wears her luminosity lightly. And when...
I had just turned ten when my hometown baseball team lost a one-game playoff to their arch rivals. That particular game was preceded by an epic run of losses that reduced a big lead in the standings to nothing. The events of September 1978 fully indoctrinated me into...
People often confide in me: deeply personal stories about bad accidents and tragedy averted, extensive outpourings about aunts with Multiple Sclerosis or fathers with Parkinson’s. I hear them in the security line at the airport from the agent tasked with...
What kind of shoes should a man who rarely walks wear? As a child, I wasn’t concerned with my wardrobe, but shoes mattered. On the field or the rink or the court. I was an equal opportunity competitor, so I amassed quite a collection: black Adidas soccer...
I’ve learned a lesson in community building, brought to me, once again, by Gus, a creature of few but consuming passions. His favorite neighborhood store, besides Rainbow Meats where he often gets pork cracklings and marrow bones, is Pioneer Pet Feed and Supply....
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