On December 7th, a woman reportedly fell seventeen stories from the roof of the LUMA Hotel. Several people witnessed the incident. They were at work, on commute, eating meals, living ordinarily. Then, out of the hazy blue sky, a stranger’s life came to a sudden end. A Horrific Fall Passers-by

Two years ago, I wrote about separating the home from hometown. “No contact” had already entered modern parlance. More therapy-speak misappropriated, an oversimplification of a complex problem. It didn’t appear in that article and, looking back, I can see why. I wasn’t quite “over it,” and not as enlightened as

A recent trend with a storied past has emerged with a new phrase in its mouth. Intrusive thoughts are fetching social media buzz. Facebook groups, Instagram stories, BuzzFeed and YouTube videos, all getting it wrong. You don’t lose sleep, stop eating, and consider suicide because of some stupid impulse or

Post- You might’ve pictured a grizzled veteran, head in his hands in a gloomy V.A. hospital on the outer edge of town. I know him well. He drinks more than he used to, enough for people to notice. The man is on medications that extinguish his sex life. He’s gained

Two contradictory statements can inhabit the same place, even peaceably. Boundaries can be porous. For instance, I love the gift that is my life. My mother should not have had children. Like many transplants, I ran to San Francisco as fast as I could to get far and away from

It’s been 2 years of masks, distancing, stress, anxiety, and shifting the way we live our lives. Some of us still worry and have anxiety every moment of every day if simple everyday activities like going to the grocery store were safe or if you’d get Covid just by trying

Here at Broke-Ass Stuart we love to support homegrown talent. So when we heard that an up-and-coming Brooklyn-based rock band was going to be performing in Williamsburg, we were more than happy to support them. The Dig will be hitting the stage at the Brooklyn Bowl on Saturday, September 8th

  Currently, I’m on the coast of Oregon, land of blackberries, loggers, and oysters. My cousin just graduated from high school and most of my family was drawn–by the magnetic pressure of my aunt–to her graduation party, complete with tents and two bands. I’m getting old and my brain is