I returned from the woods. I’m back from a week camping in Vermont, a bit discombobulated but glad to have attended the annual Firefly Festival, a Burning Man regional event for the New England community held over the Fourth of July week. Heading to the event, I drove four hours …
I depart imminently for the Firefly Festival in Bethel, Vermont, a 3-hour drive from my parents’ house. I am glad to get on the road again. I arrive a day before the festival officially opens so I can set up the Platonic Solids. I will stay a week in the …
I harken back to the 50’s, the 1850’s, the era of straw hats, steamboats, wild frontier, barefoot rambles, and wood-hoop hijinks. Times then seem simpler, fresher, and raw. Dime-store candy was a cherished luxury. I finish reading The Yearling and now pick up Walt Whitman’s Song of Myself. After Whitman, …
Mothers are killing America. As I run late mornings on small roads past suburban mansions, I am narrowly skirted mostly by two types of vehicles: gardener crew trucks and SUVs helmed by frantic mothers. I should patriotically support Moms along with The United States and apple pie. Without Moms, our …
My car is packed full. I can see clearly out the back over a set of plastic cones, and I can take along a passenger as long as he or she does not own much. I brought 50% too much on the road. I’m hauling ski clothes, tire chains, maybe …
I return home to my parents. I grill swordfish on Tuesday night and suggest a Wednesday museum outing. We resume our routines. My parents view time differently than I do. In spite of their advanced age, little happens here in a hurry. Days come and leisurely days go. Highlights include …
Goodbye, New York. It might be years until I return to you. I reached eastern ocean at the end of May. Although I unpacked the car into my parents’ suburban Boston house, I spent three consecutive weekends in New York City. I tallied eleven nights running around the Big Apple. …
Three months on the road, three weekends in New York, I want health. I eat bagels for breakfast, pizza for lunch, and beer for dinner–great bagels, pizza, and beer, but a pile of calories nonetheless. In the mirror, I see a weary fatter man glaring back. All those years of …
4am. Why am I still up? A party, of course. Saturday morning, David, Jeremy, and I wake late in Bushwick. I venture out on the hot noon streets for coffee and a halumi sandwich. A group of black men take fashion photographs against eye-popping murals that decorate the industrial neighborhood. …
Today’s solstice kicks off summer. I have been on the road for almost all of spring. I’ll be home before the earth bakes too hot. This longest day warms me in Brooklyn. I have stayed in New York City for the last three weekends. I crave the compressed, crazed, and …