I hate it when, in the middle of yet another hectic, over-scheduled, urban frenzy, working mom kinda day, I don’t just blaze through the InBox, delete yet another Lefsetz Letter email I have subscribed to… but rather, for reasons entirely unknown, I start reading one and it begins to work that spell where I find myself, unconsciously, now seated in front of the screen, radio blasting in background, ignoring yelling kid and barking dog and ringing phone, pasta water boiling over on the stove while instead I wind my way down the thing, tuned-out to anything else but the rhythm of the copy, nodding my head, lost to those precious, still-blazing, few seconds in a time and a soundtrack and a memory of my own making some twenty years ago, and again, near tears by the end.
No, actually I love it.
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