Editorial

I Lost My Brother Twice: First to schizophrenia, then forever to the city.

The police officer said “an incident had occurred in a subway station” concerning my brother Zack, but he wouldn’t say what exactly had happened. They had called his mother, who had then called my father, who then called me. “You know it’s really bad when they won’t tell you on the phone,” my dad said. I knew there were only two possibilities: Zack had either jumped onto the tracks or he had pushed someone, and honestly, at that moment I was praying for the latter because it would mean my brother was still alive.

A Hustler’s Guide to IVF

IVF is a gamble. It’s betting the farm on a slow horse with crap odds, hoping for a miracle payout. A true hustler is an obsessive gambler with an insatiable need to pursue that payout at all costs. In this case, the payout happens to be a baby.

Damon Runyon, the famous writer of Guys and Dolls, and a man who crafted the perfect picture of low-level hustlers, once said, “you can become a winner only if you walk over the edge.” Over the edge I have been, on a manic quest to meet my kid.

Dolly Your Enthusiasm : BOBBY BARE | THE WINNER | 1973

I grew up in New York City during the 1990s, a head-down headphone era. Hip-hop beats and jazz horns made the perfect soundtrack for bouncing up and down flights of stairs and running for trains. New York City was less a part of the US and more the capital of the world. In 2001, when I first heard “The Winner” by country-folk man Bobby Bare, I was eighteen years old; before then, I barely thought of myself as an American.