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British Jam and German Toasters
A perfect New England August Sunday. The banks of the Connecticut River at Haddam’s Neck. Dollar-corn-on-the-cob. And a shit-ton of vintage bikes, mostly British, but plenty of Euro and Japanese candy, too. I mean, how could you resist? I couldn’t. So on this fine August Sunday, I took a (car) ride up to the 30th annual…
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Sunday, Mass
Well, the riding planets aligned on Sunday. Liebe and the kids were either occupied or dispersed—one in NJ for soccer, another at home studying for finals, and the third—my son—in bed with laptop, recovering from an acute case of the Senior Prom… So combined with a perfect June day, it was the perfect excuse to…
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Railing About Failing
It’s tepidly—tepidly—encouraging that Metro North representatives have been willing to show up in public forums this week before hordes of embittered Connecticut commuters to “listen” to what its ridership has to “say.” Tepid, because the effort’s entirely pro forma, since anyone with a cellphone and Twitter (do people at Metro North know about these technologies?) could…
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Littered with Beauty: a Postscript
I have to say that I was so bothered by the contrail of crap that I saw along Long Lots and Hulls Farm Road yesterday (previous post) that I woke up with an itch to do something about it. There’s something to be said for taking pictures of trash: by seeing it and then documenting…
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Littered with Beauty
Since the Arctic Vortex headed back up to Tuktoyaktuk for refueling this weekend, I decided to skip the gym and head outside for some exercise in the fresh, wet air. I didn’t exactly go for a walk, and it wasn’t quite a jog, either. It was more of a “wog,” just fast enough to break a…
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Longitude & Gratitude 