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Maggie slept through her one week birthday (the nerve!), so I decided to celebrate ten days; seemed like a good round number. Anyway, these first few days of Maggie’s life have disabused me of measurements; seconds, minutes, hours all seem to stretch and bend in this haze of feed, burp, change, repeat. And so tonight,…

The East River isn’t really a river at all, but a tidal strait between Manhattan and Long Island that, because of tides, appears to flow like one. New York Presbyterian Hospital soars like a great, white sail over the East River. This great, granite sheet spans several blocks of Midtown East, swallowing the FDR highway…

If, as my former bandmate, once sang “World’s change in the belly of an insect,” then universes transform in a matter of years. Little wonder, then, that I should comment to Abbi this weekend that I can’t remember a period of transformation as radical as the last five years. Five years ago, I was an…

In the event you haven’t checked in on my other website, “Mister Rogers & Me,” lately, there’s a quite a bit going on. For starters, we’ve relaunched it. Of course, the site’s relaunch was timed to coincide with today’s publication of the Nantucket Film Festival schedule. “Mister Rogers & Me” has two official screenings: Friday,…

For a second there, the juxtaposition of my ragged, fourteen-foot UHaul barrelling up the well-coiffed upper reaches of Park Avenue was kind of awesome. Traffic was light. The gas pedal was heavy. Midtown was in the rear-view. And there was funk on the radio. What’s more, my heart was full of freshly-minted confidence. Overnight, I’d…