(This entry is a continuation of M.J., Part One .) The first thing I found out from Professor Washington—M.J.—on our date was that he and ...

His name sounded like a weighty bludgeon of patriotic shout-outs: Franklin Madison Jefferson Washington. To me, he was always M.J. I met h...

It wasn’t even my car to begin with. I know better. When a light comes on my dash and stays on for a while, I mention it. I take it in to ha...

I don't know if it's a certain increasing briskness in the autumn weather sparking people to contemplate a change from regular sheet...

His key ring is a mass of metal, a bulky collection that rattles and jingles as his fingers tango through them to find what he needs. He lo...

So let me review what he looked like, when he stepped into my living room. The top of his head came up only to my chin, but what he lacked...

It was quite an exciting week for those of us in the northeastern United States, what with the hurricane and all, last Sunday and Monday. Th...