My wife, in addition to being wise and kind, is generally made of sterner stuff than I am. This serves us both well, but the contrast does serve to elucidate some important concepts from time to time. Living as we do in New York

One of the things I love most is meeting new people who are outside of the usual circles that I travel in, who can teach me about things that I’d never learn about otherwise. To that end, I devote as much time as

I read my friend Brendan Koerner’s The Skies Belong To Us straight through; On its surface, this is a book that tells a riveting true (not inspired-by-true, but true) story of two young lovers and the fantastic, farcical way in which they pulled

Yesterday, my son and I were coming back home to New York City, driving past the familiar skyline and its newest additions. Like a lot of toddlers, my boy’s obsessed with all kinds of vehicles, so I wasn’t surprised when he pointed

I took this photo on a cool spring day twenty years ago, on the day I fell in love for the first time that would last. I’d been to New York City a number of times before then, but at fifteen years old

One year ago, I wrote a remembrance, as I do every year, of where I’m at compared to where I was on this day in 2001. As a New Yorker, it’s a personal ritual, one that I share publicly but do more

Yesterday and early this morning, while talking about our impending move to a new apartment a few blocks away in a much bigger building (and no longer on the ground floor), my wife and I talked about how being in a larger complex essentially

I think one of the biggest reasons many great writers go into journalism is for the chance to sneak little wisecracks in, with the hope their editors will indulge. I took the opportunity to read a printed copy of the New York Times the

Each year, I try to write a memorial post on the anniversary, to remind myself, and as a record of where I am compared to where I was that day. As I read back over them, what I see nearly ever year is that