Boston 1981

I remember what it was like to be lonely and 21 in Boston. I remember, always in the fall. When autumn winds blow crackling leaves down an empty street at sunrise. When the smell of diesel or an old building mixes with cold unwelcome rain at dusk. When I think of...

Why I don’t blog anymore, revisited

A few years ago I wrote a post about why I wasn’t blogging anymore — as in why I had not posted for a while. I think my thin excuse back then was that I was “too busy.” This time my excuse is no excuse at all — it’s a fact: I...