Nearly 200 years ago, Alexis de Tocqueville observed the distinctly American tendency to measure the value of everything with one question: how much money will it bring in?

I’m intrigued by signs. Not the zodiac kind, but the ones posted on walls, doors, windows and sidewalks.

I’ve always loved symmetry. Maybe it dates back to high school drafting classes, when I spent hours moving a mechanical pencil across vellum, creating balanced architectural drawings. There was something satisfying about its precision and logical order.

Everywhere I looked, there were water bottles.

Social media is littered with promises to take you to the “next level.”

Bring “3 changes of underwear.”

Sometimes the past is closer than we think.

“When you arise in the morning, think of what a privilege it is to be alive, to think, to enjoy, to love.” Marcus Aurelius.

Labor Day weekend is upon us, and according to the federal government, the holiday “recognizes the many contributions workers have made to America’s strength, prosperity, and well-being.”

A piece of street art in Manhattan shouted “TO DREAM IS FREE BUT THE HUSTLE IS SOLD SEPARATELY.”

“Look left. Look right. Look up. Look down.”

Confession time. I’m addicted to endurance.

There were four municipal playgrounds in my town.

At a recent public hearing in my town, a professional engineer enthusiastically testified that a proposed development would not significantly increase traffic on Route 4 - a notoriously congested road.

Some people leave memories. Others leave momentum.

Some numbers quietly tell the story.

They came in droves, leaflets in hand, knocking on doors throughout my neighborhood.

"Share the gift of hope today."

Time.