The holidays are when someone died. Or a grandfather got worse instead of better in the hospital, or a friend drank too much and had a car accident while driving home from a party. The phone call comes on a weeknight. There’s a long silence after the news is
By Christmas Eve, I never feel like I’ve bought enough. The arms race catches up with me, it tugs at my anxiety and my wallet. At some point on the 24th I end up at a stripmall bookstore in Connecticut or North Carolina wondering what I can walk out
Dear writers, I’m so enjoying your love and devotion to Star Jones. I hope your love for her is not ending. Now you posted something insightful regarding people with a vision disability. Do blind people dream in pictures? Thank you for caring and posing such an important question. But
We occasionally invite guests to review the best songs we’ve discovered that week while surfing around the mp3-blog universe. This week, I invited my mother. Ann Baldwin loves music new and old but doesn’t pay much attention to what the PR people are shilling. As she told
To butter or not to butter: That is the question, and gluttons with high cholesterol should know the correct answer. But when friends organize a gastronomic tour of Paris, who am I to say no?
I went to college in central Maine, a small school on a hill overlooking a rusted-over textile town where Richard Russo used to teach (the town’s river and shirt factory popped up on the cover of Empire Falls). The winters were long, the springs were soggy, and there
In a college film class, we watched the opening to The Shining first with its soundtrack, second with the audio portion muted, third while a student turned off the television volume and used a boombox to overdub music a little more Disney. The point was even paranormal homicide can be
Hi Folks, I’ve enjoyed reading your series on city parks and was very excited to see that Toronto had it’s own article. Being a Torontonian, I was looking forward to hearing about little known areas of this city that I hadn’t yet discovered. This expectation seemed reasonable
A Remnick addition to the New Yorker’s masthead, pop music critic Sasha Frere-Jones must have been the first person to sneak the phrase “inscrutable batphones” into the magazine (as in, “not all musicians below the age of 30 are getting tattooed with runic symbols and sending viruses to
Dear TMN, Today’s “Not an Open Letter” by Elizabeth Kiem speaks for so many of us who understand how the world works in shades of gray. I was sad and disappointed to learn about Grass’s secret when I first read about it. It was the same knee-jerk
