Dear Lauryn Hill,
I've written you in the past—three times, actually—to urge you to come out of hiding and record a new album. It has been, after all, 12 years since The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill was released. It still holds up, by the way. Nice work.
I had no idea that there were so many 30-somethings out there waiting for you, too, until I was in the car on Monday waiting for Maddie's piano lesson to end when a story came on NPR's All Things Considered about you. The story ran through your blazing but short-lived career, confirming the strangeness of your absence and wishing right along with me for your return. I could hear the wistfulness in people's voices as they talked about you.
And then... an interview with you. You didn't sound strange at all. You sounded like a mama of five children who wasn't really interested in leaving them all the time for a music career. And you made me—and people like me—rekindle the hope that there might just be another album coming, maybe even this year. Could it actually be true? Oh, I hope so.
Dear Elena Kagan,
A quick question that I fear will be otherwise unasked in your confirmation hearings:
Did you love Nancy Drew when you were little?
Dear LeBron James,
I went to my first Cavs game in 1974.
I can't speak for other fans in other cities, but speaking from personal experience, I can't imagine a fanbase that loves its team more than the one in Cleveland.
We cry when our teams lose in the end. And then we believe they can win again. Because one day, we will celebrate victory like people who have been waiting a lifetime.
You aren't going to find that in Chicago, Miami, New York, or anywhere else. But you know that already. We were born in the same place.
Listen to them if you must, but in the end, pick us, please.