No Thanks Normal

A few things have transpired since I took this photo in early May. The virus has wreaked havoc with our lives, bringing us and “normal” to our knees. Jobs don’t look and feel like they once did. Schools are operating wild west, frontier style. A little over a week ago, insurrectionists stormed our nation’s capital…

Horrible, Thanks for Asking

“How are you? How are you doing,” I asked my friend. I asked because I cared and because this is what I know we’re supposed to do to start a conversation. “Horrible, but thanks for asking,” she responded. There was a beat. We both burst out laughing, gutted by the truth masquerading as absurdity. It…

Even Longfellow Got the Blues

Every neighborhood has a party house. In the quiet, tree-lined streets just blocks away from Harvard University in the 1850s, that house was the Longfellow’s. Celebrated poet and Harvard professor, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow sure knew how to throw those ragers. On any given Saturday night, you might arrive with a bottle of wine and a…

Thoreau Back

I spend twenty minutes wandering around a paved path that loops up over several short grassy hills trying to find “Author’s Ridge,” the plateau where Louisa May Alcott, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Henry David Thoreau are buried. There is big nineteenth-century nerd energy here in the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord Massachusetts. Designed…