Is there anything more adorable than a drunk toddler? I don’t mean a slurring, stumbling, falling down, cursing toddler, though we often enough found ourselves in that state, but an evenly buzzed toddler, whose mother can offset whiskey intake with soothing butter, maintaining her toddler’s perfect, moderate drunkenness.
Another family story. I can’t get away from it. As Easter approaches, I find myself thinking about one of my aunts who, when it came to transportation, had only known the transportations of
1. board the T heading downtown to get to the swan pond / check your phone absently / remember
how so many people needed your attention last month that it made you want to
I love it when I’m speeding and then again I love it when I crash.
If Conlon wasn’t busy composing music for the player piano, he spent his time mulling over cryptic scenarios that provoked his interest; for instance, how a boat made out of paper illustrated to resemble wood looks like a boat made out of wood.
She glances into a pocket mirror. She is WIFE now. She doesn’t need to go through her lines, she’s been doing this for years.
Michele Lee woos my husband through the screen and also through the decades.
Abdullah greeted me outside of the Jaipur, India train station, asking if I needed a ride. He was quick to show me his official license, knew where my hotel was located and did not make false claims about it having burned down recently, a popular scheme according to my Lonely Planet guidebook.
When we consume ourselves, of course / we think no one cares enough to watch.
Starting today, we've got a new feature: "Sunday Comics"!
Basically, we're going to start serializing some longform comics, with a new installment every Sunday. We're starting with three of
I'm just like everyone else... A person drinking coffee...
“Surely there are lonely people out there who would like to talk to me about the books they ignore.”
I was nineteen the summer of 1956 when the Baseball Fairy tapped me with her wand and almost sent me into orbit.
Junior is not getting out of his car.
It’s January in Ohio, and he has just driven all night from Florida. This car—a 1991 Nissan 300ZX—is a beautiful ride, a rich deep cherry color, the colors
Baseball Players I Remember (I Watched Baseball 1-4 Years as a Child. I Collected Cards. My Favorite Team Was The Braves)
Ron Gant. I remember he bent his knees
in a weird, intriguing way
When I was fifteen, I started receiving letters from Division I baseball coaches about the possibility of joining them on such and such Elysian Field and helping the squad reach its goal, which
I didn’t become a fan of baseball until I was in my early twenties. As a teenager, I thought sports were antithetical to the sort of arty, book-reading persona that I had been trying so hard to affect.
