O Little town of Bethlehem… Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting Light... The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.
Living in the magazine world is sometimes like dancing out of rhythm or singing off-key. All year long deadlines keep us thinking and working in future tense. Usually, it doesn’t bother me much, but today it does. Writing a Christmas letter while my Thanksgiving turkey is probably still strutting around the barnyard does something to my sense of spontaneity and authenticity. In my search for a fresh, new, and brilliant thought, I am feeling unusually old, dull, and simple-minded – and quite ordinary as well!
