Local voices chime in on a variety of topics.
On Tuesday, I had the privilege of interviewing one of my good friends and my old college roommate, Todd Angilly—who some of you might know as The Boston Bruins’ national anthem singer—for a feature-profile I was assigned to write for a magazine in Boston.
What can we do about these dismal developments? That’s the subject of a future column but – spoiler alert – there are no easy answers and those who peddle such answers are mistaken. In the meantime, sorry to be the bearer of bad news.
We are about three weeks into Little Bean’s first grade when it occurs to me that I am no longer aware of the person she’s becoming.
Eighteen months after the start of the pandemic, you are still not receiving a fair wage for the valuable work you do. Your courage and your sacrifices—which in some cases included the lives of family members and coworkers—have been taken for granted.
While state data show that 96.5 percent of New Hampshire’s COVID-19 infections, 93.6 percent of initial hospitalizations and 93.5 percent of deaths have occurred among unvaccinated individuals since January 20, these statistics are created manually within the department and thus are not part of the daily or weekly information released to the public.
The Manchester Transit Authority and Manchester Moves deserve immense credit for committing the initial match funding to this project. Now it’s time officials in city hall take note and commit to safe streets for all Manchester residents, not just the wealthier neighborhoods.
The Spider Plant, I believe, derived from a cut Cobain may have once tried. With my hair growing long and shaggy, in order to execute The Spider Plant, I needed to shave the back and the sides with the clippers while allowing the hair on top of the head to grow long and hanging over the shaved sides like the leaves of a hanging spider plant growing over the planting pot.
As I made my way through the aisles, I got a stare from a white male, maybe in his mid-30s to early-40s. He had a scraggly beard, work boots, faded jeans, and a worn T-shirt. On his waist, an open-carry but holstered handgun. I’d made my complete assessment of him within seconds: Proud Boy member, Pro-White hate group, Far-right conservative. I just knew that in the parking lot, he likely had a 4×4 pick-up truck that was plastered with inflammatory and divisive slogans, topped with at least 16 American flags. I’ve seen this all before.
With communities buzzing about the most recent culture war on Critical Race Theory, I’ve had the chance to attend several school board meetings where there were people either outside or inside school board buildings protesting something they know little about.
When your wife tells you the grass is getting long, pretend it was an observation, not a directive. Put your arm around her shoulder, pull her close as you both stare at the lawn. Say something profound. Crib Socrates. Say, “Beware the barrenness of a busy life.”
On this Labor Day let’s commit to really doing something for our essential workers. Let’s guarantee them a wage that allows them to live with dignity and free from the stress of living in poverty or near poverty. It is the least we can do.
The entire premise of lockdowns, mask/vaccine mandates and other orders is that there is a health crisis caused by coronavirus which is extremely deadly. It started as asking people to stay home for two weeks to “flatten the curve” and has grown to mandating vaccines for all. While it was harder to prove this was not the case in 2020, the data is in and it is clear that coronavirus is not as deadly as currently advertised.
So as September ushers in my favorite season—not that I venture outside enough to truly enjoy any of the four seasons—here is this month’s glut of random observations, useless facts and irreverent musings.
As you read this, we are now several weeks into Buddy’s life. Sadly, the second caterpillar did not make it out of his pupa state, leaving Buddy as the sole resident of his mesh cage. We change his water each day, and bring him a new fresh flower now and again. He’s still unable to fly, but some days we find him on the mesh nearest our living room window, soaking in the sun.
But this year, following 18 months of uncertainty where you needed to revolutionize the way you teach; where for much of the year you stared at student avatars on screens, as opposed the living and breathing beings you normally see in class, there’s a dull pit in your gut as you wonder what this year’s classes might bring—the logistics and the optics.
Granite Staters know that an investment in roads, bridges, and high-speed internet access is a direct investment in our families and our economy. And this week, we took a major step forward in doing exactly that by passing a once-in-a-generation infrastructure package. It’s the type of investment in America’s future that doesn’t happen often, one that will rebuild our state and our country as a whole.
Originally, I intended to report this as a journalistic piece. But this isn’t breaking news—many restaurant owners I’ve interviewed in the past six months have echoed the same fears and sentiments—and I can’t write this article with any modicum of objectivity.
As a teacher who cherishes the summer reprieves from classroom responsibilities[1], August always finds me ambivalent. On one hand, it is still summer, and there are still three precious weeks to prepare and relax before returning to the daily grind of the school schedule.
We are halfway up Mount Washington – the Cog Railway car chugging uphill at a tremendous three miles an hour – but Little Bean is disappointed for an entirely peculiar reason.
My friend Dan—who lives in Missouri—and I are engaged in a Zoom discussion on one of our favorites topics: Rocky movies. We pride ourselves in our acumen and insight when it comes to anything related to Rocky Balboa and the bevy of films based on his character.