Every so often you meet a person so inspiring as to make the hair on your arms electric and the air around you still. I met such a person last week, while participating in a panel of women authors at the University of Colorado at Colorado Springs. Her name is Latoya Lucas: she is a wife, mother, and recipient of a Purple Heart, the nation’s highest award for service and combat injuries.
Read more...Like the rest of the world, I am completely captivated by the rescue of the Chilean miners. Theirs is a daring story of darkness and light. I cannot begin to imagine the hell they endured underground, but it sure makes my heart swell to see them back on land, reuniting with their families and beginning the long process of reclaiming their lives.
Read more...Last night I was treated to a performance by Salman Rushdie. I use that word, performance, intentionally, because his talk was a tour de force. He spoke as part of The Denver Post’s Pen & Podium, a literary lecture series that brings in notable writers to discuss their work and the craft of writing. I’ve attended this series for the past four years, and it ranks high among the things that
Read more...I was walking in City Park on this fine afternoon and spotted a backhoe perched on top of a mountain of dirt the height of a two-story house. It was such an odd sight, as if someone was playing a trick on the landscape. I couldn’t help but stop, and look again.
Read more...On the eve of Stand Up 2 Cancer, it would be remiss of me not to offer my support and admiration for this special initiative.
Read more...This is the question my husband posed to our son tonight. It’s an appropriate metaphor since Casey is “car crazy.” It’s in his DNA, I think. I have no recollection of how, as a toddler in New York City, he learned the names of cars, fancy and not, big and small, but before I knew it, the kid spotted them all and made a game of naming them on the city streets. Memorizing car logos is how he
Read more...I love stepping away from our present lives, even for one night.
Read more...Last week I witnessed a rite of passage I’m unlikely to forget. My twins and I attended a Shabbat service at a neighborhood congregation we’re exploring. Turns out that the community was acknowledging a special member of its own that evening – a 13-year-old boy named Ben who was being Bar Mitvahed.
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