Blindfold a child, put a bat in her hand, and promise her candy, a lot of candy. What could go wrong? Nothing, says the author of the darkly delightful Mister Monkey, in a deft defense of pinatas. Plus: what to do when a neighbor has automatic weapons, poetry from Bob Holman who was entirely … Continue reading »

  Things have changed since she moved to a small town in the Hudson Valley. Now there are scented-candle stores to the left of her, a neighbor with a grenade launcher to the right of her, volleyed and thundered. Gentrification and odder incursions go rural. Plus memories of Spalding Gray, poetry from Bob Holman, music … Continue reading »