Lessons in Hindsight
Nov 5 · 4 min read

I grew up in Ohio, in a two-story house that stood on a long, long, gradual hill, and that backed up against a small forest. I remember that hill icing over one winter, and watching from a window as a taxi cab slid slowly — so slowly… gracefully even — off of the road and onto our front lawn. Then the driver backed up onto the road, put it in drive, and managed to point the thing back in the right direction until it passed out of sight, beyond the…

