Editor’s Note

Chiseled in Stone

I lived in the Deep South in the early 1980s and the stone water fountains in our town park still had “White Only” chiseled into them. No one paid much notice, except to point out how slowly some things change.

Honorary Editors

Since the old order of things has been tossed and everything is changing, here’s a thought. What if I appointed you, dear readers, to take over some of my editorial duties? Don’t laugh. It’s happening.

Walking Our Way Home

You learn a lot walking a dog around the neighborhood every day. One lesson is that all creatures have their own favorite places to visit and enjoy.

About Face

Time flies when you’re having fun. Or not. The last time I subjected myself to the trial of having an “official” portrait taken was in the summer of 2009. That shot has aged much better than I have, but it was time to let it go.

Odes to Mud

Why does mud get such a bad rap? It’s what politicians sling when they run out of good arguments. It’s what your name becomes when you screw up publicly. It’s also the nickname of the “off” season that is now upon us.

Thanks, Mrs. Wagner

About a year ago this month, my wife and I received a special honor at the New Hampshire Theatre Awards —mostly just for being stage parents who didn’t quit when our kids grew up, but I took advantage of the opportunity.

The Gift of Music

You may have noticed our latest foray into multimedia: our Cubicle Concerts series, mentioned on our “About” page (in October) or on house ads (like the one to the left), and perhaps you’ve even taken a few minutes to watch and listen to a few of them. I hope so.

Singularities

New Hampshire’s most celebrated poet wrote those lines in one of his lesser-known poems, appropriately titled “New Hampshire.” I say “lesser known” but not unappreciated.