Winter in the Midwest, where I’ve lived most of my life, is an exercise in survival and fortitude. The familiar “winter burrow,” when my neck and shoulders begin to melt into the rest of my body in order to conserve heat, begins in November. That’s when cold winds strip the trees of the remaining leaves and the world seems to be all shades of browns and grays. In December, there is some relief because of all the festive holiday lights and decorations. January settles into a cold, desolate winterscape once again. The lights and tinsel and baubles have been packed away, but a fresh layer of snow can brighten things up.

When I read a magazine or newspaper, I flip past the ads without a glance. It’s even worse with TV commercials. By the time the endless list of potential side effects rolls across the screen, I have blanked out the name of that exciting new medicine that will cure me of… what was it again?

Whether you take stock in that or not, winter is here to stay for a while. But no matter, celebrations still abound. Valentine’s Day is coming up; Wuthering Heights anyone? And in one resort town in Utah, a little film fest just wrapped up its latest iteration there. You might have heard of it. The Sundance Institute, founded by the late Robert Redford, has been the place to see emerging talents and independent artists. The last few weeks of January into February have been carved out to showcase and laud few films, as well as shop them to distributors. This marks the final year the fest will be in Park City, transferring to Boulder in 2027. While most of this year’s selections aren’t available yet, some of last year’s are now on streaming.

Oh, we stand in lines, sure, but we don’t wait. We scroll, we swipe, we tap. We fill the silence with digital chatter, as if the universe might collapse under the weight of an unoccupied moment.

This time, I approached the Genius Bar with trepidation: I had been given the daunting task of picking out a computer to replace the old desktop my parents used for the past two decades; it was so old that it was no longer able to be updated; the keyboard and mouse were, on a good day, slightly functional at best. Despite their best efforts to keep it going, it was finally time to find a replacement.

We were surprised when we found out that there was a Leona’s pizzeria in McHenry. We decided to fire up the “Way Back Machine” and go back in time for a good Chicago pizza.

Here is Part II of NYK’s investigation. 

“Oh, you must go to Cafe du Monde and have beignets!” said one person after another, almost word for word, which had me suspecting they were part of a mass marketing campaign aimed solely at me.

Just when scientists had gotten me warmed up to the idea that global warming and Gulf oil leaks are bad for us, now they tell me that the latest doom we have to worry about is—well, they don’t have a name for it yet, but I suppose it would be called “global snickerdoodling”.

But enough about that, here we are in the beginning of January. Possibly you are reflecting on what you didn’t do in 2025. Maybe a crisis came up that made you reevaluate your priorities, bring more focus to what is lacking. A crisis of faith, one might say. However, maybe it wasn’t that dramatic. That is just the dilemma at the emotional core of Rian Johnson’s latest in his Knives Out series.

Oh, not because the kids are rebellious in the dream. No, in all my “bad” teaching dreams, it’s never the kids’ fault.

It’s always me.

Sometimes I’m not sure if he’s being funny or overly dramatic. So I wait.