At Harvard, you don’t just sign up for classes. You shop for them. Indeed, the first week of the semester is actually known as “shopping period,” where you can drop in and out of classes as wish and ask (to yourself), “Is this topic interesting?” “Is the professor engaging?” “Can I get up this early?” If the answers are yes, you sign up. No? Keep looking.
Radio pros make it seem so easy. Their voices sound confident and friendly — like a buddy telling you about his or her day. After spending a weekend learning what they’ve mastered, I’m reminded that when someone makes something looks easy, it’s usually because they’re pros, not because it really is that simple.
Following our visit to Salem, the fellows had enjoyed a week “off” before we reunited for a three-day audio storytelling class. For most of us, the open days gave us time to take care of personal business — registering cars, unpacking apartments, etc. It also meant free time, which I used to take sailing lessons at MIT and visit friends in Maine. Continue reading
One of the first things Cyn noticed when we got to Boston was the sound of sea gulls. “Oh, I’ve missed them,” she’d say every time one would holler overhead. D.C., of course, is too far inland to have a steady supply of gulls (though I think several have followed boats back to the downtown marina) and circle over the fish boats.
Still, being on the sea means gulls are regularly in the area. Never more so than on our trip to Salem.
Life is full of paradoxes. The more afraid you are of death, the less you’ll be able to enjoy life. The more you learn, the more you realize how little you know. The more time you have, the less you’re able to blog.
Ok, that last one might not be true, but that’s how the past week has felt. After meeting the other fellows, our schedule has been jam-packed with activities both fun and bureaucratic.
The fun started with a tour of MIT. Like many large urban research institutions, MIT’s campus sprawls through town. Its buildings represent an eclectic assortment of brutalist, avant-garde, modern, and classic architecture styles. Continue reading
This post is, in a sense, seven months late. Were I more transparent and possessed better writing habits, I would have written in January about the process of applying for journalism fellowships. That would have followed in March and April with posts about interviewing in Ann Arbor, Cambridge, and via Skype for said fellowships. And this space certainly would have featured a post on my birthday in May about receiving one of them (much to my shock and delight). Continue reading
As of this writing, it’s been 10 years since our youngest daughter was born — and died. Rarely during that time has a day passed without thinking of her. As this round-number anniversary approaches, I’ve also been thinking more about the impact that day has had on me, my wife and our other daughter, who is now 12. Continue reading
The birthday parties I remember when I was a kid weren’t the ones where I was getting the presents. I’m sure I had delightful birthdays, but the ones I really remembered and most enjoyed were the ones for my friend, Rogan.
Rogan’s parents are geniuses. His dad was a professor at Kent State University, and with Rogan’s mom, they arranged the most fun, delightful and creative birthdays imaginable. They tended to be elaborate games that were some combination of Capture the Flag, an off road biking adventure, food fight, and Lord of the Flies. More than 30 years later, I still remember and treasure those parties and the resulting scars. Continue reading