In early December last year, my friend Dan and I met in Amsterdam for a brief winter vacation. It was sunny, hat-and-gloves weather when we arrived. During the next few days, temperatures dropped and slushy snow fell with what felt like malicious zeal. The Dutch are stalwart bicycle riders, pedaling sturdy, black bikes that are the style equivalent of...
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I was living in Miami Beach when I turned 36. For my birthday, my friends pooled their money and gave me a fish. I named the fish Omar. Omar is an arcing, six-foot long Atlantic sailfish, a showy and regal sea creature adorned with a dorsal fin that stands like a starched cape along the length of its body. The bill is an elongated sword spackled with what...
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It was dark outside but warm—always warm and humid—when the truck dropped off the newspapers strung into bundles too heavy for me to lift. They thudded onto our front porch, divided into two or three stacks: the main section and the special sections to be tucked inside before we folded the paper into thirds and cinched each midsection with a rubber band....
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This is not a technophobe’s lament. This is not an anti-smartphone screed. This is an ode to the untethered glories of my July road trip without a screen, a signal or a network. The passenger manifest: me, my 12-year-old niece Eva, my beastly driving machine Thor, and all the gear and brio needed for six nights of camping in southern Utah. Her parents—my...
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It wasn’t my mother; my mother doesn’t watch soap operas. Maybe it was the woman who came over to iron and babysit some afternoons or the mother of one of my friends. The soap opera was “Days of Our Lives.” Even though it was about pretty grownups in shiny clothes doing mean things to each other, it wasn’t the show that mesmerized me; it was the opening. A...
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