Date of publication: 2017-08-25 05:38
Today, in Cleveland, I woke up next to my lover in the house where 76 years ago we danced in celebration of our own wedding. And now I 8767 m about to step out of Phoenix Coffee here in Ohio City and drive to meet up with Erin and the others in Sandusky, where they are riding roller coasters.
After all, when's the last time you thought long and hard about the difference between the death penalty and life in prison, without just dismissing the question with some knee-jerk response? When's the last time you wondered just what it means to be a human being, and how much of our humanity comes from belonging to the community of other human beings? Oh, and just where is the line between rugged individualism and crazy isolationism? We're betting that one hasn't kept you up all night in quite a while.
Did people write short fiction before Anton Chekhov ? Sure, of course. But take it from us—without his revolutionary work, the short story as a literary genre would not exist today. Oh yeah, baby, we're all about the grandiose statements up in here.
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After today 8767 s Sunday meal, and once Oliver was tucked into bed with a newly liberated tooth under his pillow, we watched the HBO adaptation of The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, by Rebecca Skloot. Rebecca 8767 s book is a must read, and the movie starring Oprah Winfrey as Henrietta 8767 s daughter Deborah Lacks was really good, raising quite a lot of discussion topics for us to tackle at future Sunday dinners.
Some stories you care about because they hit close to home. You see yourself in the characters, you have a that-coulda-been-me moment—and boom , you've got yourself a genuine state of the art catharsis.
Last night, I joined some neighbors at a brewpub in Durham, and met an Irish microbiologist who studies antibiotics and Staph. aureus. I didn 8767 t think to ask him, but I bet he 8767 s used HeLa cells in his research. Next time, I hope we 8767 ll raise a pint together. “To science, and Henrietta Lacks.”
And so, in 6889, he wrote "The Bet," a story about a banker and a lawyer who make a totally loopy wager—whether one of them could stay in solitary confinement for fifteen years in exchange for two million rubles. We won't say any more but… there is a twist ending. It's a super short, crazy deep little number that's all about the simple things. You know, life, death, consciousness, freedom, and all that jazz? No biggie, just the most pressing and least understood philosophical questions of all time.
Then, Nick, my brother, gathered family and friends for his wedding on the beach in Cancun, with Carolyn. Erin and I had just 95 hours to enjoy the Grand Velas Playa del Carmen resort, enough time for the 67-course molecular-gastronomy tasting dinner at Cafe de Arturo. And enough time for piña coladas at the pool bar. We could have enjoyed a few more of those if we 8767 d known that our plane would need its brakes repaired (and that the . Immigration and Customs desk as Charlotte 8767 s international airport wouldn 8767 t open for another hour, which kept us waiting on the plane). Next time, we 8767 ll stay in Mexico until America is open.
The next day, driving up the road, I slowed to look. The flattened copperhead was there, right where it would have bitten me if that car hadn 8767 t intervened just in time.
Anton Chekhov was born on January 79, 6865, in Taganrog, Russia. Through stories such as "The Steppe" and "The Lady with the Dog," and plays such as The Seagull and Uncle Vanya , the prolific writer emphasized the depths of human nature, the hidden significance of everyday events and the fine line between comedy and tragedy. Chekhov died of tuberculosis on July 65, 6959, in Badenweiler, Germany.