It is Sunday and I’m in Danbury, Conn. Yesterday, my wife and I drove to Danbury to celebrate Dean Moss’ 75th birthday and last night did our celebrating at the home of his son, Will Moss, who works with my son, Zach, at NBC in Stamford. Dean grew up in Pomfret, Conn., and at 40… Keep Reading
It is Tuesday, and I’m sitting in the lobby of the Hotel Coolidge in White River Junction, Vt. The Coolidge is a throwback to the 1920s — small rooms, low ceilings and long dark corridors. But our room is spotless, the lobby comes with coffee, the staff is upbeat. My wife and I are at… Keep Reading
It is Friday, and I’m in North Adams, Mass. It’s overcast, maybe 60 degrees, and my wife, Susan, is still sleeping. This morning I have a cup of Pfeffercorn’s Whole Bean roasted in Baltimore. This morning I’m sitting in our loft, in the same room where men, women and children once operated large, loud textile… Keep Reading
Alright, it was supposed to be “moderate,” my guidebook also promising a trail hiked by Nathaniel Hawthorne, Oliver Wendell Holmes and Herman Melville. Importantly, a trail with an 800-foot elevation gain. But as I studied the large, plastic-shielded map at the trailhead a middle-aged, baseball cap-wearing man approached and said, “Where are you from?” “South… Keep Reading
It is Thursday, and I’m in North Adams, Mass. It is early, temperate (60 degrees) and I’m looking out at the North Branch of the Hoosic River as it flows down from Vermont. The North Branch is, at this point, contained and canalized in a 40-foot-wide concrete trough. This was responsive to a series of… Keep Reading
It is Sunday, and I’m in Lenox, Mass. at a place called Tanglewood. I’m here with 4,000 other people who have gathered together to hear the Boston Pops Orchestra. Some of these oldsters have bought themselves a cushioned seat in The Serge Koussevitzky Music Shed. Others have come with their own folding chairs, tables, baskets… Keep Reading