Columns

We need to talk … or e-mail. That’s fine too. But this is much too important for a Facebook wall post, and I’m afraid...

The path to Connecticut high school football playoffs—the most exclusive postseason in the state—will get a little wider next fall. The CIAC has unveiled...

5. The Colbert Report (Comedy Central, 2005 - present) When I first saw some of this show’s pre-launch advertisements, it seemed like nothing more than...

As the end of the first decade of the new millenium draws to a close, I am more and more asking myself, “What the...

Well, it’s here, folks: The end of the decade.  Some say 2012 will be the year our species is annhilated, whether we’re decimated by...

She calls almost every day, my “old friend from Oak Terrace.” I can tell by the tenor of her voice, as soon as she greets me, what kind of day she’s having: Sometimes it’s a joyful chirp, quoting scripture and gushing about choir rehearsal; others it’s a smoker’s croak, bitter and depressed and “just about ready to give up.” My friend’s name is Linda Jean Cray. She’s 45, heavyset—though she’s lost a considerable amount of weight recently—with stew-brown hair that flows just over her shoulders. Her smile reveals badly-worn, discolored teeth. A single, front tooth, apparently the survivor of the bunch, remains intact, recalling some cartoonish caricature of a baby.