An incident from the Cuban Missile Crisis reminds us just how close we came.
A lot of people my age and a bit older defined their general attitude toward the peril of nuclear arms over two weeks in October of 1962. The Soviet Union had bootlegged intermediate-range ballistic missiles into Cuba, a Soviet ally against which the Kennedy Administration waged covert war throughout its truncated time in office. For 13 days, the facts were quite plain: One wrong move by either side, and we were all dead in a torrent of fire. There was nothing any of us could do about it, and we accepted that as a normal and went on with our lives. I was a fatalist before I knew what fatalism was. |
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| Coal miner's daughter, 66, Hurricane Mills, Tennessee |
| Too stiff, too hot, too small, broken springs, weird smells—we've tried them all. These are the hands-down best. |
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Rock and Roll Hall of Famer Linda Ronstadt, granddaughter of Mexican immigrants and descendant of Spanish settlers, explores her family history and the complicated relationship between the US and Mexico in her new book, Feels Like Home: A Song for the Sonoran Borderlands. Co-written with former New York Times editor Lawrence Downes, it's filled with traditional Sonoran and southern Arizona recipes, traditional song lyrics (there's a companion playlist), and evocative photos by her friend Bill Steen. But this territory isn't new for Ronstadt; it's something she's consistently been examining at least since her groundbreaking 1987 album Canciones de Mi Padre. |
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The two-time MVP and former NBA Champ talks fashion, celebrating his roots, and that one time his agent had to force him to wear a suit. |
| We found the gift-giving gold amongst all the junk—and it ships fast. |
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Perhaps you think of ADHD as a racing mind, a restless energy, a propensity to focus a little bit on a lot of things, but for me, the symptoms were all in the sink. I'd always been good at starting to do the dishes. I'd come in hot every time, then get 85% of the way through and burn out. My mind would flash to any of the other dozen tasks I'd left 85% done, and I'd rush off to finish one of those. A dirty dish and a fork left to be tended to at a later time, when I was 85% into something else. There was always a little bit of laundry left unfolded, a bill or two left unpaid, a to-do list almost all crossed off. That's what my ADHD looked like in adulthood: small piles of good intentions strewn around the house. |
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