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Maggie At Ten (Days)

Maggie slept through her one week birthday (the nerve!), so I decided to celebrate ten days; seemed like a good round number. Anyway, these first few days of Maggie’s life have disabused me of measurements; seconds, minutes, hours all seem to stretch and bend in...

Meeting Maggie

The East River isn’t really a river at all, but a tidal strait between Manhattan and Long Island that, because of tides, appears to flow like one. New York Presbyterian Hospital soars like a great, white sail over the East River. This great, granite sheet spans...

How To Change The World

If, as my former bandmate, once sang “World’s change in the belly of an insect,” then universes transform in a matter of years. Little wonder, then, that I should comment to Abbi this weekend that I can’t remember a period of transformation as...

Building A Mystery

For a second there, the juxtaposition of my ragged, fourteen-foot UHaul barrelling up the well-coiffed upper reaches of Park Avenue was kind of awesome. Traffic was light. The gas pedal was heavy. Midtown was in the rear-view. And there was funk on the radio....

To Do (Or, The New Normal)

Suffice to say that the twelve miles I ran from the base of the Manhattan Bridge to and twice-around Prospect Park was the easy part. It dawned on me deep within the fluorescent-lit walls of Ikea just a few hours later to Tweet, “I am in hell.” But I...