James Taylor almost sang at my wedding. During the waning days of winter in 1970, we were living in Cambridge with some Harvard Law students. Our friend Lou – a dropout from the Law School – had just gifted us a record album. On the cover was a skinny guy in a rumpled tan suit, wide paisley tie and beige suspenders, lying on the grass against a stone wall. read more…
Do I Bow or Can I Hug?
I pondered this question as I sat on the ten-hour flight from Los Angeles to Haneda Airport near Tokyo for our first ever visit to Japan. Tatsuya had been a twenty-nine year old businessman when he joined our family briefly in 1994. He came as part of a cultural program being offered to my school at no cost: read more…
It’s fifty degrees and the March sun is shining. I put on my water-resistant cross-country ski gloves, take hold of a shopping cart, and pass through the automatic door. I am at my local Hannaford supermarket. read more…
It is September in the year of the pandemic. A summer of drought followed by torrential rains and high winds brought what seemed to be a sudden and cruel end to the fall foliage. Our majestic sugar maple read more…
Late last night I heard the screen door slam,
And a big yellow taxi took away my old man….
by Joni Mitchell
I never appreciated how much I needed toilet paper until I got to the store and found the paper aisle shelves bare and Amazon only
I stood fourth in a line of hopeful shoppers armed with newly disinfected shopping carts, holding tightly to paper lists of needed items, and concealed behind an array of colorful homemade masks. Some wore goggles;
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