I am between flights. It’s a four-day wait in this case, and I can spend it at home, so it probably doesn’t constitute a proper layover. But it feels like a layover, and I have a difficult time concentrating on anything but my connecting flight, the one that will unite me with my sister. I’m…

Every Saturday morning in fall I wake up and feel a tinge of disappointment that I have not woken up in a dorm room in South Bend, Indiana; that my Notre Dame marching band uniform does not hang in the closet at the foot of my bed. I’m disappointed because I’m not eighteen, nineteen, twenty,…

“Still waters run, run deep in me.” —Jim White “I think the devil will not have me damned, lest the oil that’s in me should set hell on fire.” —Falstaff, in The Merry Wives of Windsor Water: we think of it all the time. This is perhaps especially true of me, born a Baptist, an…