“Nan — you actually taking the afternoon off?” I asked my old customer. “I can’t believe it.”

Nan shot me one of her patented gleaming smiles and said, “I can’t believe it, either. I’ve got to de-stress or I swear, I’m gonna explode. Yesterday, for instance, I spent five hours cleaning the bathroom. This is after eight weeks of the contractors coming and going. Jeez frickin’ Louise. So, my friend in Colchester’s having this afternoon barbecue and I’m, like, ‘Donna, I am, like, so there.’”... Read more

This is the thing about the Green Mountains: Every season, year after year, I perceive something new that astonishes me and leaves me thinking, How is it even possible that I never noticed this before?... Read more

Was graduation weekend somewhat subdued this year, or has the ongoing financial recession begun to skew my impressions? I can check if I want to: In near-OCD fashion, I keep daily tallies going back at least two decades. If this year’s commencement celebration indeed generated less business than those of years past, the figures in my archives will corroborate. But I’m not checking; I fear the worst, and therefore choose to maintain the classic ostrich head-in-the-sand posture. Ignorance may not be bliss, but it works for me.... Read more

At the country club, there is no last call at the clubhouse bar. The bartender will stay until the very last barfly calls it a night. Membership — which costs, I understand, a pretty penny — has its privileges.

“Want a refill on that, sir?” the young bartender respectfully addressed me as I sat on a comfy stool at the far end of the bar.

“Sure thing, that’ll be great,” I replied. “Thanks, buddy.”... Read more

Pulling up the long dirt driveway to the old farmhouse in Marshfield, I saw a single black suitcase leaning against the clapboard exterior wall and a gaggle of folks standing around on a long wooden porch. They had gathered, it appeared, to send off my customer, a Linda Levin, to the Burlington Airport and, via airplane, back to whence she came.

“Thanks for being right on time,” the traveler said as I approached the group. She was an attractive middle-aged lady, slender with short, black hair and cute bangs sliding over her right eye.... Read more

Spring has been teasing us lately: Here I am! No, I’m not! I don’t mind at all. Most every morning now I can hear the birds outside my window, and they don’t need Twitter to tweet their news. I have it on good authority from a pair of sleek robins that winter is over, baby.... Read more

“Look, this is what you need to understand.” Sitting beside me, a fresh-faced young woman was schooling me on a subject near and dear to her Gaelic heart. Her auburn hair was pulled back with a couple of clips; her green eyes, framed by high and rosy cheekbones, glistened in the dashboard lights as she spoke.

“When you’re Irish,” she explained, “you wake up on St. Patrick’s Day and you just want to go out and celebrate. You know — get a Guinness in you. It’s bigger than, like, Christmas.”... Read more

Amidst an economic downturn that we now hope remains merely a recession, this year’s Mardi Gras in Burlington was a godsend for us cabbies. The brainchild of Alan Newman and his Magic Hat Brewery, the annual lollapalooza is a magnet for frozen and depressed northerners in serious need of some wintertime jollies. Thousands of locals and out-of-towners flood the Queen City. And this is my kind of flood: party people with money in their pockets and a penchant for alcoholic beverages.... Read more

As Sean and Debbie came out the door of their Shelburne Village condo, I had to blink. Sean was wearing a black suit, a pale blue tie and dress shoes, and Deb was in a short black dress, stilettos and a lacy violet shawl. In a word, they looked hot. I’ve been driving this couple for years, but had never before seen them dressed to the nines.... Read more

The nighttime Amtrak arrival into Essex Junction was a bust — nary a taxi fare to be had. Trying to salvage what I could from the situation, I pulled to the curb at the Railroad Street bus stop, positioning myself directly in front of a young man I had seen get off the train. His clothes looked straight out of Eastern Mountain Sports, if a little road worn, and his face showed an untended, wispy black beard.... Read more