Dear Universe, I discovered this poem, “Monsoon,” by Edie Rhoads, on a total fluke today in the library where I work. I was getting a cup of tea (which I rarely do) and was waiting for the hot water to get, well, hot. Next to the sink are shelves upon shelves of yet uncirculated materials….

Dear Mr. Gingrich, I offer my deep appreciation to you for agreeing to work with Mr. Kerrey on an introduction to my book, “Brain in a Jar,” about my father’s life-long war against Alzheimer’s disease which tormented his own father, his patients and then himself. If he could, my father would jump up and down…