My twin brother, Billy (aka William), and I were walking in Central Park on a gorgeous, freaky warm winter afternoon when two women closed in on us from behind. One of them said, “Excuse me, where did you get your shoes? They’re beautiful.” She was not addressing my brother. The women reminded …
Tomorrow morning when my husband Tom stumbles into the kitchen for his Cheerios I will say, “Good morning, Killa Tickle.” Later, when I am examined by my eye doctor, Steve Schwartz, I will say, “So tell me, Outlaw Stevie Ritz, how’s my retina?” See, I just read this interview with Gloria Steinem …
I wasn’t going to do it. Safely in the hands of Uber, I was on my way to my book group meeting at Debb’s, having gotten to 7 p.m. without buying a Powerball ticket before last night’s drawing. Yes, EVERYONE I KNEW had bought at least one ticket—in one case, twenty-five. But, …
The mailman’s truck is very cute—all perky, square and white. I always get a little thrill when it chugs into sight. He’s brought a big, fat pile today: A baseball magazine, A catalogue of Christmas toys (‘though it’s just Halloween), A dentist bill for fifty bucks that’s wildly overdue, A postcard all in …
Once one is on the other side of 65, it becomes harder but more essential to be adventurous. It was with this in mind that I took a subway to the U.S. Open. It’s not that I don’t ordinarily take the subway in New York–I do. But usually it’s to go to, …
My sister Lindsay recently asked me what I meant when I said, “YOLO.” Her question made me feel like a hip woman in the know, in full command of modern language. I answered her in a tone suggesting I was exercising great patience with the undereducated. In fact, I’d actually just learned …
When I fantasize about a daughter getting married—okay, yes, I do—I figure California would be an ideal spot for the event. We’re so droughty, it’s a wedding planner’s dream: No chance of precipitation to dampen the mood and soil the bride’s satin slippers. So thought the happy couple who planned their weather-proof …
It’s a thing we Harpers do. My twin brother, having spent the night with me at my New York apartment, woke up last Tuesday feeling the need to leave for LaGuardia three hours in advance of his flight back to Chicago. He texted me a half hour after we parted, saying “Good …
I just read an article in the New York Times about Madonna, suggesting she may be compromising her dignity with hijinks like flashing her butt at photographers and pop-up pubolic makeouts with high-profile people and sporting uber-sexy clothes and—you know, all that stuff she does. It’s not the first time someone has …
