Articles by Sarah D. Bunting
I went out of town on vacation last week, and in my travels – all of them at least one time zone removed from the greater New York metro area – I saw a fair …
I do not like going to the doctor. Obviously, nobody likes going to the doctor, except little kids, because the waiting room of any upstanding pediatrician has cool stuff like unfamiliar chewed-on toys and other …
When I go home to visit my parents for the weekend, my trajectory when I first arrive at the house always follows the same path: from the back door to the front hall, where I …
A few days ago, a local TV newscast ran a story on the reaction of Italian Americans to Spike Lee’s latest “joint,” Summer Of Sam. According to the news piece, the film features as its …
It hadn’t happened for a long time – for such a long time, in fact, that I had begun to forget the horror, the pain, the feelings of shame. As the bad memories receded, my …
Every once in a while, when my friends and I have a refreshing hops-based beverage in hand, the topic of conversation turns to what we would do if we won the lottery. It probably goes …
I still remember the day Ronald Reagan got shot. I don’t remember anything about school that day – aside from the customary wrestling with long division, I don’t think anything notable happened in Mrs. Arrouet’s …
A few months ago, I gave up on my local grocery store. It pained me to do so, because I would prefer to shop at the closest market to my apartment, but after two years …
Every day when I head home from work, I walk across town on a major midtown street. I like walking for its own sake, and the weather has warmed up lately, so I enjoy tooling …
To my surprise, I actually survived my fifth-year college reunion. To say that I did not want anything to do with the reunion understates the case rather dramatically; in fact, I actively dreaded this gathering …