On Being Late

I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Romans 7:15 (NRSV)   Thursday late afternoon, headed northbound on route 151, I waited six cars back from the attendant holding a Stop/Slow flip sign. Streams of...

Christmas

On Christmas Eve Day, I felt a little blue. Maybe it was the rain and fog. Maybe I longed for Christmases past with my children, now adults with lives of their own. Maybe I was just feeling sorry for myself. Betsy Lerner’s snarky humor spoke to me. “The holidays...

Voting

Earlier today, Keith and I traversed the mountain switchbacks on route 151 south in order to vote at our designated polling location, the Roseland Rescue Squad building next to the local post office. Folks lingered in the parking lot, warmly greeting and chatting with...

Are you liberated?

One chilly winter night some forty years ago during my college years, I was upstairs in a Boston dance club on Beacon Street looking around for someone I’d like to ask me to dance. Two young, strapping fellows about my age promptly swam into view, approaching...

Whining

This past weekend, I logged into one of my email accounts, in order to send a message to my mother, and received this error statement: The server encountered an internal error or misconfiguration and was unable to complete your request. Please contact the server...