Stumbling on goodness as it unfolds

So there I was at Target this morning, minding my own business. I had my sunglasses on, and was pushing my cart aimlessly through aisles I didn’t need to be in, laying my hands on everything, with no real hurry to be anywhere. This is the most dangerous way to shop Target. I had planned to go to the Target by my house, but I was closer to another one after having dropped Ruby at her carpool to camp. I had a short list of things to grab—hand soap, a greeting card, jeggings for the girl—but I took my …

Birthday boy: an open letter to my friend who’s turning 40

Dear Brian, What a difference a year makes, huh? As you may or may not recall—depending on the number of cocktails you enjoyed at my 40th last year, and the brain cells you’ve obliterated since—you gave me a boundless ration of grief over my official entré into middle age. You laughed and ribbed and smirked your way through the evening at my expense, and you were quite funny. It’s why I like you. Mostly though, I had to laugh to keep from crying. You might be expecting me to get even, now that it’s your turn to stuff the …