the hottest day of the year

Among my favorite small joys in the world is a thing that happens every four years in New York. Around this time, in the sweaty-tongued heat-struck center of the summer, walking around the streets in the afternoon (or, this year, at ten in the morning), you can see crowds overflowing out of bars, gathered to watch a soccer game. America isn’t good at soc…

This post is for paying subscribers