Blog Posts

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 several blocks of Midtown East, swallowing the FDR highway…

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 radical as the last five years. Five years ago, I was an…

In the event you haven’t checked in on my other website, “Mister Rogers & Me,” lately, there’s a quite a bit going on. For starters, we’ve relaunched it. Of course, the site’s relaunch was timed to coincide with today’s publication of the Nantucket Film Festival schedule. “Mister Rogers & Me” has two official screenings: Friday,…

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. What’s more, my heart was full of freshly-minted confidence. Overnight, I’d…

It took me less than an hour back in the city to spot a dead body. I opted to shake of my sixteen-hour commute from Yemassee, SC, to New York, NY, on Amtrak’s Silver Meteor last week with a bike ride (inspired secondarily by a rapidly approaching triathlon in July). I pedaled my Cannondale north…

For 1600 miles and thirty hours this week, Abbi and I sat reading, writing, and resting as Amtrak’s Silver Meteor ushered us roundtrip from New York City to Yemassee, South Carolina. It was an experience. Our 6′ x 4′ sleeper room was pure, NASA-age innovation. The sink folds down. The toilet folds up. The top…