August 4, 2011—
I’m sure you have a ritual, too.
Maybe it is a weekly yoga class or a spot near the foggy window of a neighborhood bar. Maybe you carry your laptop to a favorite coffee shop where you add a daring dash of cinnamon to your java.
Perhaps you check blog posts every night at 11.
One of my rituals was to stop by the Borders book store every Sunday in suburban Oak Brook outside of Chicago, The visit became part of my drive from the city to visit my elderly parents. I would collect my thoughts, comb through the music—this Borders had a great buyer who stocked the hard-to-find Skeletons from Springfield, Mo.—and I’d get lost in the travel [...]
