His name is Harold. Not Harry. Harold.
In some ways, I will know him better than anyone else knew him. In other ways, in the most meaningful ways, I will know nothing about him.
Continue reading “On it (and distancing language from death and the dead)”
Experientially, no substitute exists for getting caught with your pants (or in my case, shorts) down. Being singled out, especially while underprepared and running late, is a perfect recipe for anxiety and late night ruminations. It can also provide much needed perspective and clarity if dosed appropriately. This is my most recent experience with that bitter pill.
Eugene H Kim 