Miracles happen. I don’t mean in the theological sense (the jury is still out on that): I mean those incredible, perfect events; the sort you think, until they happen to you, only occur in fiction.

When I went to college near New York City, hopping the train to Manhattan twice a week, I thought it was the only city in the world. I came from the boondocks and here there were actual bookstores, theaters and museums that showcased something other than prize-winning squashes. More »

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I’ve been slacking on the crazy single life part of my agreement. The truth is, my life hasn’t been all that crazy or single.

It all started back in August, which was when I met Linda. We were just two randomly placed souls on a commuter train sitting next to each other. Her looks were stunning. I don’t normally talk to the people I sit next to on a train, but she had with her so many things that invited conversation. For one, she had two baby chicks. Who brings live baby animals on a train? Another is she was using an mp3 player that I had just bought for my dad. Not the ones that Apple makes, but an obscure brand. “What are the chances?” I thought. More »

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