is worth a hell of a lot more than a thousand words. Maybe a thousand books. And don't get me started on Jill Biden's boots. Wow.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
This Picture...
is worth a hell of a lot more than a thousand words. Maybe a thousand books. And don't get me started on Jill Biden's boots. Wow.
Monday, January 19, 2009
I can't stop crying
Just watched this from yesterday. My sisters had the wonderful fortune of being there to see this live. I am surprised at just how powerful this was for me.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Why New York is still the greatest city
Only in New York can a plane crash become a feel-good story.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Cull your in-box, you never know what you'll find
I spent some hours culling my Gmail inbox last night. It had grown to over 275 messages, some from over a year and a half ago.
What I was surprised to discover was a treasure trove of messages from my friend Michael, who died last summer. But what was so wonderful, was that nearly all of them were from the year when he was in remission from his cancer. Looking at what were essentially ordinary missives between friends took on a very different feel. We talked about the election, work, football, baseball, work ( he liked to talk about work), music, and most things. But not his cancer. So fucking naive we were, but I would never trade that year for anything in my life. As horrible as 2008 was, 2007 was pretty wonderful.
I never expected to be transported back to a time that was, dare I say, more innocent than today. But cleaning out my mailbox gave me the memory of a time when I (we) thought that he had cheated death. It was a lovely time, so long ago.
What I was surprised to discover was a treasure trove of messages from my friend Michael, who died last summer. But what was so wonderful, was that nearly all of them were from the year when he was in remission from his cancer. Looking at what were essentially ordinary missives between friends took on a very different feel. We talked about the election, work, football, baseball, work ( he liked to talk about work), music, and most things. But not his cancer. So fucking naive we were, but I would never trade that year for anything in my life. As horrible as 2008 was, 2007 was pretty wonderful.
I never expected to be transported back to a time that was, dare I say, more innocent than today. But cleaning out my mailbox gave me the memory of a time when I (we) thought that he had cheated death. It was a lovely time, so long ago.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Out of the mouths of babes
During a particularly fractious moment today where Grace was sobbing due to the fact that her sleeve was slightly bunched up while I tried to put on her mittens, I very sternly told her that there was no reason to cry about a bunched up sleeve. It was ridiculous to cry about it.
She simply replied through her tears "Daddy, but small children cry about small things."
Checkmate.
And, yes I forgot my wallet, so we ended up skiing for only about an hour before the hunger was too much. Grace insisted on a rummage through the car for cash, but I spent way too much on meters in the city. Nothing is 60 cents any more.
She simply replied through her tears "Daddy, but small children cry about small things."
Checkmate.
And, yes I forgot my wallet, so we ended up skiing for only about an hour before the hunger was too much. Grace insisted on a rummage through the car for cash, but I spent way too much on meters in the city. Nothing is 60 cents any more.
Thursday, January 01, 2009
2009
I will be posting to this site again soon, when I get back to the land of regular reliable internet access. The date I stopped writing is pretty obvious to those who know me. I just didn't see the point.
But 2009 is a new year and I intend to honor that so I will resume regular posts when I return.
Regards,
CS
But 2009 is a new year and I intend to honor that so I will resume regular posts when I return.
Regards,
CS
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