My husband and I trolloped around the island like gastronomads, looking for great things to eat. Some food was expensive and overwrought - and I encountered the worst lobster roll ever -- but mostly we were excited by what we found and continued our search for the sublime.
At Boston College I publish the majority of my writing through The Gavel, a progressive online publication now in its fifth year. As an editor of the sports section I own an unedited, raw window for my ideas. That said I try my best to create a voice for myself.
How high must an American president get to escape the sweltering heat of the Washington summer? About 1,700 feet. That's how high Camp David, the official presidential retreat, sits in the relatively cool Catoctin Mountains, 62 miles from the White House.
On a humid Martha's Vineyard night, I drove across the street to our Performing Arts Center to see Art Garfunkel's concert. What I could not know is that short journey that I made would lead me into Mr. Garfunkel's profound encounter with what propels him into this world.
Falling asleep late Sunday night, all felt right in the world. My world at least. Gazing up at an ink-black sky littered by stars, my thoughts drifted elsewhere while I shifted restlessly on my friend's futon.
None of our efforts in life are ever wasted. We can't always see the reverberations of good intent, but they ripple forever outward just the same. Doing something out of love for another is no small thing.
The above painting, captures the innocence of childhood and my love of Martha's Vineyard. I have traveled to the island every summer for the last 17 years. It's hard to write about its splendor without sounding cliche.
When I speak with friends and note their despair about the state of the planet, I remind them that we are not inherently evil doers as some would conclude during these very dark times when heads are literally rolling; the results of a distortion of faith.
Spike Lee, the old guard of black indie filmmaking, gets his mojo back with this classy, urbane, bloodsucking art film that is a beauty to behold. Sophisticated, demented, eerie, erotic -- prepare to be shocked and flabbergasted.
I met Mike Goldberg the first day of law school at the University of Virginia in September, 1969. By virtue of the alphabet, the F's and G's were separated into a small section for one of our subjects.
Cape Wind Communications Director Mark Rodgers reflects on the leadership required to move the project from drawing board to construction. He explains how the un-calculated or "external" costs of polluting sources of energy have inspired communities to support renewable sources of power.