I am a sucker for a dance floor. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t allowed to go to dances when I was young and I’m now trying to make up for it, or because dancing feels like the only appropriate response to hearing a great song, or because when you dance nobody cares who you are, or what the booty that you’re shaking looks like. Indifferent to one’s God, politics, economic...
I lost a friend of almost 30 years just a few weeks ago. She suffered from Crohn’s disease her entire adult life, and cancer these last seven years. She was a fighter in all respects, and one of those people who told doctors just how things were going to go down. When hospitalized 18 months ago from a complication we all thought would end her life, she repeatedly told her...
There’s so much noise around turning 50. Does one deny being a half-century old? Embrace the achievement? Fight like the devil to turn back the clock? Without question, this age instigates a new chapter with bigger stakes and a growing sense of urgency. Given our youth-obsessed culture and my own compulsion to stay young, I wondered how honestly I could write about this milestone. Fifty on Fifty is my experiment.
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