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TGIF or ‘Farewell Friday’? The depressing week that was

I’m not inclined to depression – nor do I think I have anything but a great life, no matter what its challenges – but I find myself facing each Friday as if I’d just run a marathon with rocks tied to my ankles.

This is a recent phenomenon. OK, it began when Donald J. Trump became president. For certain, not everything that has happened can be blamed on him – certainly not the three hurricanes (Harvey, Irma, Maria) with Nate waiting in the wings to strike the Gulf Coast this weekend. Or the mass shooting in Las Vegas. But I know I am not alone in saying that we arrive at the finish line each workweek, crawling, panting – drained and depleted. ...

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Las Vegas and the literature of rejection

I was working on a story about Emily Katz Anhalt’s new book, “Enraged: Why Violent Times Need Ancient Greek Myths” (Yale University Press), when I decided to take a break with The New York Times online. The headline hit me in the gut:

“At Least 58 Dead and 500 Hurt in Las Vegas as Gunman Rains Bullets on Concert.”

The suspect, Stephen Craig Paddock, 64 – and, according to Las Vegas Police, also dead by his own hand – was described as a quiet, unassuming man with no criminal history by his understandably defensive brother. Of course, he was. The president called for peace and unity. Of course, he did. ...

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