If you know me or are even an occasional reader of this blog, you’ll know that I talk a lot about my mother, Gloria Hardman. That’s because, to borrow the title of Jason Reynolds’ excellent podcast, my mother made me. (Also, do check out his podcast.) Beyond being my mother, Gloria is an important person
Hello! I now have a new website. I’ve had a website for 25 years. And, though I did update it, I didn’t do much with the design, which remained very web 1.0. The old website looked fine for, say, 2005. So, with thanks to Megan Montague Cash and the design firm of New Boston Creative
Because my mother is dying, I think a lot about grief. Indeed, because we’ve been in a pandemic for most of the past two years, you too might be drawn into grief with greater frequency than you typically are. In the past year, I’ve listened to countless podcasts and done a bit of grief-themed reading.
I wrote the following this morning, in my journal. I thought (perhaps wrongly) that it might resonate with – or even help – others. So, I am sharing it here. Welcome to pandemic day 250. If your pandemic life started on March 14th (as mine did), today is day 250. Many months ago, I decided that
This week’s #PlagueSong is dedicated to my mother, Gloria Hardman. This is her favorite song, her motto, and very good advice. The song is funnier when sung as Eric Idle’s “Mr. Cheeky” character (as it is in The Life of Brian). I suspect the song’s mixture of irony and sincerity is one reason it resonates
If you have yet to read Ross Gay‘s The Book of Delights (2019), here is an invitation to pick it up. A collection of 102 brief essays he wrote over the course of a year, the book is about the possibility – the necessity – of attentiveness to joy in the world. We live in dark times, and the
I’m borrowing the title of Charles Mingus’ tribute to Lester Young because my uncle Terry Webb liked Young, Mingus, and this song. To the best of my knowledge, Terry did not wear pork pie hats. Earlier in his career, Terry wore bowler hats. Later, he wore a Tyrolean hat. Or no hat – as in the
The third in my occasional “Archives of Childhood” series. The Archive of Childhood, Part 1: Crayons (27 Dec. 2014) The Archive of Childhood, Part 2: The Golliwog (13 Jan. 2015) What are your earliest memories? Recent conversations with family and friends have challenged my assumption that most people remember early childhood. I now wonder if it is
My mother was my first best friend. My mother is the reason I have succeeded in life. My mother is the reason I managed to live through adolescence. There have been many other important influences. Let’s not forget my sister, stepfather, friends, teachers, neighbors, and the many patient people who have managed to put up
Following a December blog-conversation about Atul Gawande’s Being Mortal (occasioned in part by her own chemo), my friend Alison Piepmeier asked me to send her a contribution to her blog, Every Little Thing. It appeared there on Monday. I’m reposting it here now. In case you’re wondering, I got permission from the close relative (named below)
