I’ve been called a witch often enough. Most of the time, I think that meant…
The Words We Are Willing To Hear
Back in the late nineteen-sixties, I clipped a cartoon from The New Yorker, at a time that urban renewal was doing its worst in a variety of Boston neighborhoods. The picture was a pair of little old ladies sitting on a train, one speaking to the other. The caption...
Trump Redux: It’s Worse When You Know How Terrible It Was Before
I spent November 5, 2024, working at my local polling place. Had just enough time to shower and dress, walk Ping, have a swallow of tea, and trot over to Samuel Adams Elementary School before the clock chimed six. There’s a lot to prepare: putting up signs, plugging...