Good

What I moved to Brooklyn was: three of my paintings, my great-grandmother’s dresser, three busts (Schumann, Chopin, Shakespeare), my yellow foo dogs (look it up), and the lamp I bought the day that Grandma died in an effort to make myself feel better, the lamp which I immediately broke on the threshold of my apartment […]

Young American

A couple of months ago, I was on the subway, and in a classic liberal fashion, I was talking out my guilt to some innocent bystander, and I said, “I don’t think we should teach about the Holocaust any more.” What I meant, I realize now, was: “I can’t teach about the Holocaust. I can’t […]

Up North

It took me an hour to get up to the Bronx. Why is it “the”? I had bribed myself with latte and bagel. I was barely awake enough to read, but there I was with my magazine reading about terms for causes of death in 16th century England: “blasted,” “cut of the stone,” “rising of […]

Seven

Seven months, seven sun salutations a day for every day of Lent except for like three days when I came home and I was very…tired. My train is the 3, an excellent train, another way I got lucky here. I had to transfer to a D at Atlantic Avenue-Barclay Center, that is, where Jay-Z sleeps […]