Have you ever felt the blast of a bear exhaling on your hand?   Happened to me a few days ago.

We were visiting a small town Wisconsin zoo and I found myself frustrated trying to take pictures of Bugaboo and Berryboo—a pair of Black Bears.  In addition to the very sturdy chain link fence that kept the bears where they belonged, there was a secondary fence that kept us back even further.  So taking pictures of the bears was more like taking pictures of the fence.[...] 

"This whole flap about fake news makes me laugh,” said my friend and armchair philosopher Jack.

“What’s funny about fake news?” I queried.

“The very name.  No such thing as fake news,” he insisted, removing his Chicago Cubs hat for a moment and scratching the side of his head.  “There’s truth and lies.  But in a culture that has cut ties with truth, the whole fake news brouhaha is hardly surprising.”[...] 

The train conductor has just punched my ticket.  Mike is his name.  He looks all snappy in his creased white shirt with the brass buttons, sporting a hat that bears the “Metra” rail logo.  A jangle of keys and the squawk of his radio define the man I’ve tried to get know a bit more than just “that conductor on the train.”

I greet Mike by name—and he knows mine as well.  Lost in thought, I stumble a moment when he asks how I&rsq[...]