Everyone who knows what podunk means, knows where podunk is. It’s out there where the flies buzz and the creek runs slowly. It’s out where there may not be cable TV or sewers. It’s where there’s probably a rural route number on the mailbox. It’s where there are more...
Yelling above the noisy Vanderbilt Law and Music Row crowd, a close friend and I were debriefing each other on life’s events over happy hour martinis—hers Lemondrop, mine Dirty. For now, this midtown bar was excruciatingly pleased with its hip status. At the time, my...
