Handbill Handout

I have been staring at subway tracks for about a quarter of a century. Not continuously of course but at random intervals of varying duration. I would bet that I have spent more time staring at subway tracks (and the rails in particular) than 99% of the people alive on earth today which is of course a mathematical trick since probably at least 80% of the world’s population has never even been in a subway. The tracks lay there but if you stare at them long enough and pay close attention you can hear them speak. When a train is coming they make a sound like hailstones on a tin roof before the lights of the train even reach the station. If you watch carefully you’ll know that a train is approaching even before the rails begin to talk because you’ll see mice running out from under the rails. The mice feel the vibration of the approaching train before you can hear it and they run from under the rails into the gully separating the tracks or they scurry under the platform. The mice are more o...

The United States is off to a great start at the Olympics. As of this writing the good ol’ USA leads the medal count with 14 total including 5 gold medals. This post is not about that. It is not about some hot chick skier with a bad leg taking better advantage of gravity than others. It is not the lovable, ragamuffin underdog story of some guy who had a multinational corporation build a secret practice facility so he could learn some new tricks away from the prying eyes of competitors. Rather, this post is about something more akin to the real life that most Americans lead, although as a culture we are taught to only admire (and in fact, aspire to be or pretend we are) the hyper-successful winners and deny the fact that most of us are just average schmucks with a few too many bills and crummy jobs. This post is dedicated to John Shuster and his curling rink. They are a group of guys who are living life as most of us live it on a daily basis. Just coming up a bit short, or long, or roll...

Cold. It was cold when we took these. So cold I thought the statues were frozen brittle and would break if we touched them. When we arrived there were a few other people taking a quick look at the plaza but they quickly submitted to the conditions and we were alone on that Saturday night. The game was long over and we had wandered back intending to go to a little bistro we knew across the street from the arena only to find that it was closed. Then we saw the statues almost like we were seeing them for the first time because we were completely alone with them. The locals were all inside. Nobody was wandering the streets. There were cars going by but the windows were sealed cutting off any human noise. Only the drone of the engines remained and it was dulled by the air; yes, it was that kind of dull freezing air that acts as a sound buffer. It was definitely not the kind of crystal-cold night where you can hear sounds from miles away like a tree limb snapping or a train rattling over st...