Holiday season supermarket displays: colors, curios, and comestibles.

When most Americans hear the phrase “holiday season” they tend to think of the end of the year—generally the time frame from Thanksgiving to Christmas (or Hanukkah), then to New Year’s Day  But our appetite for celebratory gestures—and the marketplace’s zeal to respond to it through commodification—has essentially expanded the holiday season to Halloween, given

First spinning, then smoothies, then sports medicine: fusing physical therapy with the fitness center.

Way out in Somewheresville, Pennsylvania, a glass partition separates this physical therapy office from the rest of the facility. No big deal.  It’s not surprising that a physical therapy office would want potential customers to see what its typical activities look like: the therapists themselves, doing their job, using the latest in rehabilitative equipment.  But

Navy Yard apartments (MONTAGE): Aspirational consumption, flaunted in photography.

For those who don’t go to malls regularly—which, in 2020, it’s safe to assume is most of us—we’ve probably stopped thinking all that much about the act of shopping altogether.  By and large, it’s no longer a peripatetic activity.  But there was a certain mystique toward the idea of walking confidently down a street—or, more

Wegmans: the grocer whose Valentine’s offering has got some real meat on it.

I generally shy away from seasonal postings, but sometimes it’s hard to resist.  And since I’ve got several irons in the fire right now regarding bigger, weightier, more robust posts, I feel compelled to send out some Valentine’s Day wishes…in the form of some choice cuts of meat. While rib-eye steak isn’t everyone’s top pick

In the urban jungle, a crosswalk for guineafowl.

As I manage issues regarding data migration from my old computer to new—apparently a process that, so far, has involved over four hours with tech support and no success—I must resign myself to another mini-post to keep things going when time is scarce.  On a bright May morning, I was trolling around downtown Trenton, New

In the urban jungle, a crosswalk for guineafowl.

As I manage issues regarding data migration from my old computer to new—apparently a process that, so far, has involved over four hours with tech support and no success—I must resign myself to