I could have sworn Bruce Lee used a yo-yo in one of his kung-fu movies, a sign that the yo-yo moved across the colored world in impressive fashion. But Lee did not use it and the Filipinos never killed either Spanish or American soldiers with it. It has always been a toy. I loved Duncan yo-yos as a kid. I still have one. In times of stress, it is better than a glass of wine.
Anaerobic bacteria, courtesy the CDC/Gilda Jones A multinational corporation was investing in environmental initiatives, and I hoped to write about them. Their main project was highly technical; for background they had me email two university scientists. The scientists could not easily explain to a layman what they did,…
The mentalist’s tone matters: an offhand, “Oh, and did you want to change that?” is less likely to elicit a change than a slow dangling of the temptation to change the card.
Why did people act like passing gas was rude? (And why did they use “pass,” the verb of death?) Bodies have air inside, sometimes too much air. It is not our fault that this air smells like a rind of Limburger dunked in a sewer.
Photo by John Griswold On a trip to the Missouri Botanical Garden in St. Louis this summer, a wonderful thing happened: my younger son suddenly thought of something he would like for his birthday. My kids do not want things, usually, which makes holiday gift-giving difficult, so I…
I was too late. A young woman had run at top speed from the back of the café and was already outside, capably administering the Heimlich on a guy who was a foot taller and fighting to resist her. While I was busy giving up on the next generation, they had been responding to the problem.
We can only reclaim our attentional power with “the carving out of spaces in the world where it can survive and thrive.” Physical spaces, designed with that purpose in mind. Psychological spaces, within us and between us.
Dogs need structure; without it, they run amok. We humans are convinced that we crave freedom and self-determination, but we run amok, too.
Escapism brings up biases I had not reckoned with. Why should I be so resistant? I am not picky about the relationships in my mysteries: a hard-won romance is a lovely distraction from murder, but a witty and well-seasoned marriage is just as much fun, as is the glum frustration of someone who is lonely but at least has buddies at work to commiserate with.
Scabs were cool. And until this weekend, I believed they were necessary.