Opinion
-
Every year, for as long as I can remember, I watched Meet Me in St. Louis with my mom. Every Christmas. That was our tradition. She loved that movie. I didn’t realize it at the time, but she was teaching me something. About music. About warmth. About how certain stories quietly become part of who
-
You will often hear that Christmas should not be celebrated because it was “originally pagan,” tied to the Roman sun god Sol. Like most things involving history, the truth is more layered than a meme allows. Jesus was almost certainly not born in December. Most scholars agree that date was chosen later for symbolic reasons,
-
When it comes to the unknown or the paranormal, I am not chasing answers. I am trying to understand what we are actually dealing with. I think the desire for answers is natural. We all want them. But with something like the paranormal, what you are more likely to encounter are ideas, patterns, and possibilities,
-
I often think of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol when I think about ghosts this time of year. December has always felt like the most haunted month to me. Not because it is frightening, but because it brings the past closer. Dickens understood that. He tapped into something deeply human when he wrapped a ghost story
-
Tokyo is a city that never really sleeps. It hums, it glows, it moves like electricity through glass. But that is not the Tokyo I chase. The one I love lives quietly behind it all, in the soft hum after the song ends. It is the Tokyo that hides under stairways, down narrow alleys, and
-
There are times when I wish I could go back to the days before I saw the darkness for what it really is. Before I understood how deep it runs, not just through the world, but through people too. The difficulty comes when once you have seen that darkness, you cannot unsee it. You cannot
-
For years I told myself I would find a man and build a life that did not have to exist in bars or bathhouses. I wanted something steadier. I wanted a partner I could grow old with, a man I could have a family with, someone who would walk beside me in the ordinary days
-
“Try to remember the kind of September.” That line has been echoing in my head all day, and maybe it is because September once carried a very different meaning. When I was young, Labor Day was not just a holiday. It was the last day of freedom before school began again. In St. Louis, we
Steven LaChance Blog 