That night, the calm of my ride was quickly interrupted

An intriguing telephonic transcript

It was Lisa, calling from a Long Island Rail Road car stuck in the approach to the East River tunnel

Call it de facto segregation, if you will

I love how songs can stir memories of people, events, and times in one’s life

Playing on a grass tennis court is my idea of heaven

Arrivals and a departure

Forty-nine was a good age to celebrate because it was still younger than 50

But Sunday arrived, time presented itself, the dump beckoned

I am the designated joyous one