Hello, darkness, my old friend. Once more we stumbled back into Standard Time this weekend, with all the attendant crises that entails for humans and capreolinae. There was a whole graphics-heavy thing in the Post that “well actually"ed us...
The horrifying wave of anti-Semitic garbage that is cresting reached an appalling new apex recently with Kanye’s “contribution.” Let me be unequivocal: this kind of hate is despicable and unacceptable. I condemn this bigotry in the ...
I didn’t even make it one week into my new weekly regimen of Friday recaps without missing one!
This is an opinion decidedly in the minority, but I don’t like fall. I’m a summer person all the way, and fall is the lengthy, painful t...
yay fall
I’ve said this before, but this time I mean it. I’m going to try to revive here a tradition from the ancien régime, “Friday Five,” which was loosely defined as a collection of five relatively brief, unconnected thing...
my office on Sunday
I love race day.
I like running, but I love race day. There’s nothing like the excitement of the starting corrals, that rush on the course as you realize that all the training is paying off, and the celebration and release ...
but when I became a man, I put away childish things
It was his fidget. Even though he quit playing baseball years ago, he still kept a ball in his room, and when he got stressed out, or even just bored, he’d lie on his back on his bed, and rep...
not the same deer
Out for a short run this morning—they’re all short now, and slow, as I struggle to clear the remaining damage from my lungs—I was coming up Forest. As I crossed the old CSX line near Augusta, I looked to my left a...
Tunnel of Love (Туне́ль Коха́ння) in Klevan, Ukraine
I have a question. And I really do pose this as a question to which I seek an answer, not as some gotcha rhetorical trick:
Can Russia just do whatever they want to whomever they want in their neig...
I was at my dad’s condo a couple of weeks ago, going through his files for some important papers, when I came across this gem: a promissory note for a PLUS loan my mother and I cosigned in February of 1989. That would have been the start of wi...
I don’t really make new year’s resolutions. Not anymore. Most years, they ended up slipping completely out of mind, only to creep back during those quiet overnight staring-at-the-ceiling sessions. “Oh, yeah, there’s a whole &...
