Articles

  • 5 days ago | lgumbinner.substack.com | Liz Gumbinner

    I want to write about my daughter’s senior prom, and how she set out to look like a princess, in gentle defiance of the current prom dress aesthetic. She had me in tears when she came down the staircase at her friend’s house, stumbling in heels that she’d happily swap for high-top Chuck Taylors, waiting for me to tuck the sprigs of baby’s breath into her hair.

  • 1 week ago | lgumbinner.substack.com | Liz Gumbinner

    This weekend, we’re prepping for a prom, a 16th birthday, visiting family, Father’s Day x 4, a last-minute work trip to plan, camp packing, college planning, work galore, an insurance debacle (oy), and a big exciting graduation. And then, there’s the news. So much news. And the sign-making. I had intended to share my Things I Love roundup this week, but you can see where my time went instead. Life getting in the way of life.

  • 2 weeks ago | lgumbinner.substack.com | Liz Gumbinner

    In February of 2016, when we booked the earliest available Hamilton tickets for a random fall day — November 16 — we couldn’t have imagined that New York, Broadway, and the entire theater-loving community, would be on our 7th consecutive day of mourning the results of the presidential election. I don’t need to recount the shock and numbness we felt then. But you can imagine what a catharsis that performance was for us.

  • 2 weeks ago | lgumbinner.substack.com | Liz Gumbinner

    Last night, I was extremely busy basking in a moment of long-awaited schadenfreude — as were we all — and not feeling guilty for even one minute. The Feud / Twitter War / Narcissistic Death Match between Trump and Musk wasn’t a “distraction,” or some 12-D chess maneuver to keep us from talking about “real problems.” It was real. It was inevitable. Sure, it lays bare the problems with big money influencing elections.

  • 3 weeks ago | lgumbinner.substack.com | Liz Gumbinner

    Dee O’Brien was the teacher who made an eighth-grader fall in love with Shakespeare and Emily Brontë and Kate Bush. She taught with a voice bigger than her body, and a persona far bigger than her voice. She could recite sonnets from memory and wore purple as a rule. Sometimes, while reading a passage out loud in the wonderfully exuberant way that she did, her long black hair fell to the front and covered her chunky lucite 80s jewelry. She’d flip it back and I could stare at her earrings again.

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