Be a Neighbor

It was a luxury car, red, and had New York plates. It pulled up to me, and a couple – maybe in their mid-60s – were looking for the movie theater. They had lived in town years ago, and had come up from New York City to see what’s become of the place.

You can come home again

There was this place in my hometown of Monroe, N.Y., that one summer was the rage among the “in-crowd.” By “place,” I mean an outdoor bar in the middle of a dusty parking lot, and by “in-crowd,” I mean the stereotypical popular types.

Something to talk about

Last month, while dining at a local restaurant, a Suffieldian I’ve known for almost 15 years came to our table and asked us how things were going, and I told her things were not perfect. She breathed this huge sigh of relief and revealed to us that things in her life were not perfect either.