This past November, I was traveling from Denver, making a connection from Salt Lake City to Portland. While I waited for my flight to Portland, an older man sat next to me and started a conversation. I put down my New Yorker and listened to him.
Even though it has been many years since I've been in a classroom, when September comes, I can’t shake the feeling that I belong in school. It’s ironic that I should feel this way because I hated school.
I’m happy to announce that I’ve read my snob book for the year. This brilliant collection of essays had me hungering for the lunatic-fringe side of writing.