It's that time of year again. Sprinklers dot the sidewalks with water. Fresh cut grass sticks to flip flops. And the air thickens with anticipation (oh and humidity).
I love reading. But I'm a busy gal. I likely won't be able to work my way through Stephen King's expansive horror collection before Halloween. What is a girl to do then? Lightbulb! Podcasts!
The sky was as clear and blue as the water of Lake Michigan. A bright sun shined down through the tips of the tall buildings as I stepped out of the cab, just under the sign of The Drake Hotel.
When visiting Colonial Williamsburg, you talk a lot about dead people. You even meet them on the street. But, those are actors not ghosts. To see the real ghosts you have to go ghost hunting for the hauntings...
Tuesday marked the end of Mardi Gras. Perhaps you've been or just witnessed it on the internet. Either way, you'll probably agree it's a spectacle. It also gives a glimpse into the the unusual, mystical city itself. In a way, Mardi Gras is the anthem of the musical opus of New Orleans.
I spend a lot of time in airports. So, I appreciate it when airports have art for my eyes weary of looking at fast food chains and rows and rows of industrial chairs. I've seen paintings and sculptures. But, I never imagined an airport would have a display that would send a chill down my spine...
It’s the weekend and only 8 days left until Halloween. Can’t think of anything to do this weekend? Why not go to a haunted house? Sure, it’s strange to go somewhere with the goal of intentionally being scared out of your mind. And, yet, we do it and we love it. In fact, our cultural obsession goes well beyond the ghostly and ghoulish temporary creations erected for Halloween.
K.L. Kranes 