“Kick from inside your foot!” yelled my teammate Nancy, whom I had just met moments ago. Like me, she was middle-aged and medium-sized; unlike me, she was blonde. I was, for the first and perhaps last time in my life, playing foot golf, an up-and-coming precision sport where players propel a ball into a cup nested… Read More From Foot Golf to Foot Soak
You just never want to see this sign. I used to fly when I visited my parents in Massachusetts. Three Christmases ago, this trauma even came with a compensation. The flight attendant was a former New York City cop, which gave a special sweetness to the landing announcement: Ladeez an gennulmun, welcome tah Booistun–home of… Read More Lost in Queens. And Brooklyn. Manhattan, the Bronx, and Staten Island too.