At three-ish the next day, Lionel dialed the wall phone.
“Tell Marie she needs to come over,” Miranda said, and Lionel nodded. “Tell Marie to tell Diz –”
“Hey, Marie, it’s Lionel,” and he waved his arm …

One Sunday afternoon, years ago, Miranda took Oppenheimer II out for a walk. A big thunderstorm had just passed through, and at each intersection, while Oppenheimer II sniffed around, Miranda eyed the storm drains to …

Four years. A college career. A presidential term.
After a year, two years, even three, a moment, an event is still close at hand, in use, unfiled, but after four years, it’s crossing over — from …

Don’t get me wrong: I appreciate the New York City subway system. I do. It gets me where I need to go, it’s reliable most of the time, and it is bar none the best …

An inauspicious beginning
It’s hot, again. Brutally hot, again. “Like living in the convection-current animation from the as-seen-on-TV food dehydrator commercial” hot. Aaaaaaa-gain. We went to an outdoor concert last night and drank too much beer; …

Instead of working, I would like to:
Paint the wall I’ve meant to paint since I moved in seven months ago, which is in a state of decorating indecision as a result, since why hang anything …

The last few days, I’ve started to miss my old summer jobs — not the jobs themselves, but the mindlessness of them, the frank sweating, the clear boundaries, physically going and working with my hands …

Last night, we bowled. And when I say “we,” I mean about twenty people, and when I say “we bowled,” I mean we bowled the hell out of that alley — at one point, we …

There is a thing that happens in New York under unusual circumstances, a thing not widely understood outside the city. It’s not that we all pull together, exactly; it’s not that we get along better, …

Everyone has his or her own system of prying the old carcass out of bed in the morning. Mine involves careful placement of the alarm clock — not right next to the bed, but not …