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Me night
I am sitting in a nearly vacant Symphony Hall, looking out the huge windows onto City Hall. I’m squeezing in a few minutes to write in between my decadent dinner of French onion soup and moules (and two glasses of Cote du Rhone) and an 8:00 performance of Emanuel Ax playing Mozart. Last year, I…
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Indulge Me
It seems more than slightly indulgent, to start writing about what I was going to write about (which would have been how the workout I was half-hearted about doing was exactly what I needed), when the current headlines and analysis about the firing of FBI Director Comey make it clear this is something to pay…
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Gratification
I’ve been scrolling through Medium for 30 minutes, hoping to find a cue or have an idea sparked for something to write about. As I look through my Ulysses library, there are some half-written ideas that I’d like to flesh out. But it seems too hard today. My brain is craving the release that comes…
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My dad
In response to The Economist’s invitation to respond to their cover editorial on Medium. My dad died just over two years ago, at the age of 69-going-on-50. His heart stopped beating as he was doing his morning exercise routine at home. My dad, who thrived on routine and health. So much so, that the most…
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Friday night observations
I’m meeting girlfriends for dinner in 20 minutes, but I’m sitting at the restaurant bar early, glass of white wine by my side and laptop open in front of me. Although I’m staring at the same computer screen I have all day, the change of scenery makes transitioning to writing for fun much more pleasant.…
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Ten minutes
It’s late. I’m tired. But I have this daily task to complete. It’s one of those nights when it feels like a “have to” rather than a “want to.” But as soon as the words start flowing I don’t regret stalling the bedtime routine ten little minutes. It’s late. I’m tired. This has been a…
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Bank of Erin 