While I am far past the age where I’ll be zooming downtown at 6 a.m. to open the bars with the hosts of a radio morning show— “That is no country for old men”— I still like to celebrate the day with a few beers, a boiled dinner and a Pogues playlist.
During the last week of February, I had a weeklong winter break from my job teaching at a public high school. Many of my friends and colleagues in education use the break as an opportunity to vacation with their families—whether it’s a day trip skiing in the White Mountains, or hopping a last-minute flight to Hawaii.[1]
I teach in a public school so I can’t possibly write a column about school vouchers with a modicum of diplomacy. This screed will invariably devolve into another hot-shot of liberal vitriol, right? Wrong.
My allegiance to the Red Sox vastly contributed to my developing a Chicken Little Syndrome—“The sky is falling”—while creating a seemingly endless well of negativity.
Last Saturday afternoon, after finishing an interview with a local author at Barnes and Noble[1], I met with my editor and publisher of Manchester Ink Link, Carol Robidoux at The Shaskeen Pub to brainstorm some article ideas.
It’s nearing bedtime on Tuesday night, and I’m lying on the couch after a long day, unwinding while watching “Law and Order: Special Victims Unit” reruns and cursing Stabler for being a dick. That’s when the itching starts.
For some reason, I experience a vast amount of existential dread—a fear of an eternal abyss—while driving to work each morning.
And I planned to vote for Ralph Nader for president. That was until I stepped into the voting booth and stiffened with terror at the thought of Bush winning. I wanted to vote my heart and my conscience, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. There was too much at stake.
So I plugged my nose and voted for Gore.
O P I N I O N Not That Profound I was a high school student in the early 1990s
This isn’t my original idea, of course. I was first introduced to it while watching an interview with author Dennis Lehane, the Boston native who wrote the best-selling novels “Mystic River,” “Gone Baby Gone” and “Shutter Island.” In the interview, Lehane explains how he carried around a three-by-five card with the words “Nobody cares” scrawled on it when he was starting as a writer.