There is a scene in Rebecca Solnit’s Recollections of My Nonexistence in which she meets in San Francisco a woman from New York who is attending school in the Bay Area and is distressed that she is no longer at the center of things. “I went home,” Solnit writes, “and thought about the value of margins.”
It is a lovely moment, especially for a reader living in Florida.
I'm starting to have second thoughts about zoos.
Signs of normalcy are supposed to lift one’s spirits in a crisis, yet I’m finding an inbox filled with spam more depressing than usual.
It’s unreasonable to expect the president to follow one of the basic rules of writing, but if we could see that he’s doing a great job he wouldn’t have to tell us he is.
One small positive: People are discovering the helpfulness and inherent inadequacy of virtual.
Life's starting to resemble Groundhog Day, with the difference that Phil Connors got to leave his bed & breakfast.