Wednesday means I've been back stateside a week. The charms of New York, amply on view during the July Fourth weekend, have made way for the rest of the story. Yes, our subway runs 24 hours a day, but it can break down at any hour. Sure, our streets are full of all kinds of people, but more of them than you can bear to imagine live there.As I've been catching up with my friends and colleagues here, I am struck by what a lot can happen in a year. During the exactly one year I spent away from New York some have finished degrees and a few have published books, three found great jobs (two on the West coast), one inherited five million dollars, one is becoming the man they always were, one learned how to walk, two have lost parents, one became a teenager, one now repeats everything he says, two spent time in Italy and two visited sites of all three ancient American civilizations, one lost one set of hair with chemo and looks great with the new set, one ghost-wrote a much-quoted speech for a past prime minister, one got a dog, and at least one found love.
But a year also isn't that much time, something borne home to me by the fact that some of the food in my larder is still good. The popcorn still pops, and, more surprising still, the natural peanut butter is still good, protected by the oil which floats on its top. (The other things in the photo are new.) Ein sonderbar Ding, die Zeit.