March of Time

When we’re young, time seems to creep at a petty pace, but the passage of time accelerates as it goes by. When I was young, I had the sense that a week was a long time, and summer vacations lasted for ever. Now, days and weeks gallop by, and even months pass quickly. When I first read Andrew Marvell’s plea To His Coy Mistress, I didn’t fully understand his impatience. At this point, even without a mistress, I can hear Time’s wingèd chariot hurrying near. When I was young, I wanted time to pass quickly so that I could grow . . . → Read More: March of Time

South of the Border

My midwinter break this year consisted of a trip to see my son and his family in Aguascalientes, Mexico. My time in Mexico provided some welcome relief from what has become one of Michigan’s most brutal winters in a long time. (See The Winter of Our Discontent). My flights down and back were an adventure because of the weather. On the way down, the plane for my flight needed to be de-iced three times, so we were late leaving. As a result, Several of us missed connecting flights. Fortunately, later planes were available. On the way back, the problems were . . . → Read More: South of the Border