429 Words. 2 Minute Read.

I crossed over 54th and saw a homeless man. His posture was oddly reminiscent of an ancient Roman, lying on his side with his back against the wall of the University Club—impossible to ignore, erupting with curiosities.

1,354 Words. Six Minute Read.

As I write this, I’m sitting in row 38 on a 737 at O’Hare going zero miles per hour. Row 38 is the very last one with seats that don’t recline because you share a wall with the lavatory – a thin wall, I might add. I thought the fuselage exploded when the first person flushed the commode. I’m not kidding, I about had a damn heart attack.

925 Words. 4 Minute Read

I’ve met poets, playwrights, media personalities, bankers, architects, lawyers, journalists, haberdashers, professors, nonprofit directors, academics, actors, musicians, ministers, restaurateurs, anarchists, Marxists, and a variety of intellectuals and entrepreneurs. 45 days in the greatest city in the world. And I am exhausted. The Big Apple got its pound of flesh. How arrogant to believe I would be the exception to the rule.