Tag Riding the Wave

Ten Reasons Why Certain Cities Thrive

The cities most likely to flourish in our increasingly competitive 21st-century world will be the ones that reflect a few simple but often ignored planning strategies. Following is a list that defines a desirable urban environment. Some cities earn more praise than others because of convenience. In a comfortable urban environment, most basic needs can be found in close proximity due to a sensible blend of commercial, community, and residential

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Liminal

I glide from one episode to the next, my role transfigured from scene to scene in perpetual subconscious invention until a somber beam of light paints the wall and reminds my other self of unfinished business. I rise, stiff and uncertain, remembering when, in childhood, waking life was an extension of the dream.

It’s All Good

Dennis woke up lying face-first in a field at noon. His car sat twenty feet away with the driver’s door open, engine running, and headlights on. A half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels stood upright on the ground directly between him and the car, and the Talking Heads’ “Once in a Lifetime” was playing on the radio. He couldn’t remember how he had gotten there, nor could he remember what he

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Mexico City, September 19th, 2017

Buildings collapsing all around me, my apartment swaying back and forth at weird angles, and when the earth stops shaking, we all bear witness to a city in chaos– no power, natural gas, or phone service, everything closed, traffic jammed, emergency crews, sirens, cops  and soldiers everywhere. Flights are coming and going,  and I have one booked, but there is no guarantee that I will escape by Friday.

Hurricane Irma and the Spirit of Key West

The other day, I sat in a local restaurant eating a Key Lime torte and thinking about how Key West owes the Cuban coastline a debt of gratitude for slowing down Hurricane Irma. As unkind as she was to Florida, an unimpeded Irma might have reduced Key West to a denuded stump of coral. Just look at what happened to Barbuda. Still, even if a worst-case scenario had occurred, the

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Ocean Beach

Moose rose from his stool in Mother’s Saloon at last call and tossed four twenties on the bar, not knowing how much he owed and not caring. He strolled out the front door and onto the beach. He peeled off his t-shirt, tossed it in the sand, and lumbered toward the water in nothing but his shorts and sandals. Thirty feet from the shoreline, he lay down on his side,

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