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Greetings from Carrboro, Poor January. It used to have the Super Bowl. Then February stole it. And now I hear that August is lobbying to pilfer Martin Luther King, Jr. Day citing better weather. Which would effectively leave January with stillborn resolutions, seasonal affective disorder, and really bad movies. So in an attempt to give […]

Greetings from Carrboro, This is about the time when I want to slap Bing Crosby. Because his White Christmas seems so damningly more wonderful than the inevitable Chinese fire drill my holiday becomes. He seems to laugh at me through the speakers at the mall. Or whatever device at home or work that haunt me […]

Greetings from Carrboro, The sober portion of fall is over. Officially. Earnest pilgrims are replaced by reindeer with 100-watt noses. That also fly. And normally pragmatic folk sing songs about maids-a-milking and lords-a-leaping with full-throated gusto. I don’t know about you, but receiving a partridge in a pear tree as a gift would be rather […]

Greetings from Carrboro, I drew outlines of my hand that magically morphed into a turkey. And there was a whole thing about construction paper and fashioning Native American headgear and Puritan hats. That was big. My memory was that the Native Americans always were drawn wearing ragged shorts and living in teepees and that the […]

At the time, I had no idea what we were starting. None. We just wanted to have a party. Outside. Anna brought up a bunch of oysters from the coast. A bunch. I cooked a big pot of collards with pork necks and a few hotel pans of cornbread. It was late fall – early […]

  I’m surprised there isn’t one endorsed by Mario Batali. You know, with Italian design and German craftsmanship. Ergonomic and colorful and expensive. I know they’d sell. Three different guys in the kitchen bring their own to work every day. And pretty much everyone else is jealous. No, it’s not an immersion circulator; we only […]