In the eighties and nineties, I would meet with a group on the Lower East Side for discussion and commentary on the arts-and-culture scene. Okay, okay, we were there to buy pot. Gordon (not his real name) was the dealer, and he was very organized and surprisingly strict.... Read More →

  One year, long ago, I received a birthday card from my parents, who sent greetings from “the people who made you possible.” They were sensible enough to know that rather than having created me, they had only enabled me—but “only” in a very weighty sense: I would not be... Read More →