Photo of Rachel B. Weil

We have been accused of using this Blog as our personal travelogue, posting details of our various adventures notwithstanding the tenuous-at-best connections to the case descriptions that follow. Guilty. Today, for example, we wanted to let you know that you should not miss the opportunity for a visit to the hallowed Bluebird Cafe if you

One slushy morning this week, we found ourselves searching for our favorite black duck boots.   We found one and put in on, then, after much rummaging in the dark recesses of our closet, found a second.   At this point, we were on the edge of missing our train, so we put on the second shoe

We were in western Tennessee last week for an argument.   We stayed at a beautiful and venerable hotel, most famous for twice-daily “march of the ducks.” Every morning, at 11 a.m. sharp (at least 30 minutes after guests have packed the lobby), an elevator door opens, and a uniformed “duck master” leads a perfect procession

A couple of years ago, we were overjoyed to learn that our very favorite old-fashioned Broadway musical was being revived. The lead role – a famously brassy female character – was being played by a famously brassy singer and sometime-actress we believed was perfectly cast.   We bought tickets the day they went on sale, and

Indulge us for a moment as we recount another airline adventure. Recently, we traveled thousands of miles to an important argument. Our first flight boarded right on time, left the gate right on time, and taxied down the runway . . . partway. Then stopped. Enter the inevitable announcement: “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re very sorry,