All of us who can do so comfortably, without risking our mental or emotional health or that of a possible baby, must pledge to drink a little champagne every week. We are drinking more in the pandemic anyway, n’est-ce pas? The bubbles will cheer us up far faster than those grim vodka tonics.
Recent daytrips with my sons made me recognize a category of historical monument I had not considered much: the overenthusiastic mea culpa. The first was in my hometown of Herrin, Illinois. A stone recently erected in the cemetery marks the graves of “scab” workers murdered in 1922, during a…
Simply imagining pleasant aspects of the past can make us feel like they are present again.
The point of the Rule is the power of bad things to outweigh good things. Because, evolution. The old exigencies of survival. And perhaps a malign or absentee designer of the human psyche.
Why eleven? Because I have never forgotten the findings of Harvard University education prof Carol Gilligan. After interviewing girls of various ages, she concluded that at eleven, many girls have a “moment of resistance”: a sense of purpose and an almost perfect confidence in what they see and know.
“At exactly fifteen minutes past eight in the morning, on August 6, 1945, Japanese time, at the moment when the atomic bomb flashed above Hiroshima, Miss Toshiko Sasaki, a clerk in the personnel department of the East Asia Tin Works, had just sat down at her place in the plant…
It is all too easy to feel crazy and old when you are alone—and you do stop caring what other people think, because there are so few opportunities to guess.
“Unemployed coal miner and wife living in old barn. Herrin, Illinois.” Arthur Rothstein, 1939. FSA/OWI Collection, Library of Congress, fsa 8b36448. We were driving to visit my hometown, and my elder son wanted to know if I thought that where I grew up was The South. I did not…
Human beings (and dogs) behave better when they are calm, and they are calm when they know there is enough. The cool truth beneath all the seething anger is that wealth is concentrated in fewer and fewer hands. Rather than fix that, Americans have decided to scrap amongst themselves for what is left. The enemy is not the few who own the pie but the rivals who want a piece.
Plumped up with blood and rot and supremely content, mosquitoes will mate, often in midair.