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Ultrabook, Again

It feels like it was only two years ago that I was posting about having to buy a new notebook. It was only two years ago. True to form, the hard drive on my laptop died after two years of use; for whatever reason, this appears to be the average lifespan for my notebooks. Just to turn things up a notch, this time the hard drive died while I was in China. All is not lost (although all of the data I've saved over the past two years is). I really didn't need to be spending money on a new computer on top of all my house-moving expenses, but such is life. OK, Samsug, you're up to bat. Last until 2017 and you'll have broken the record.  Read More 
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In China, Thinking of Vermont

My body is in Macau, China, covering a fight for HBO.

My mind is in Bristol, Vermont, thinking of the 150-year-old farmhouse I am on the cusp of owning, and wishing I were moved in already. Only a month or so to go, before my world turns upside down ...
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On Jet Lag

I am in Macau. It is my first night here, after a trip of 30 hours or so. I left my house at 3PM ET on Saturday. I checked into my room about 11.30 AM Macau time, which is ET +13. The mental gymnastics required to figure out where I am temporally in relation to where I started are hard enough, and harder still when my brain is suffering from being dragged halfway across the world. It is now 7PM local time and I have decided to yield to the inevitable. I am careening from extreme lucidity to utter exhaustion from moment to moment. By 8, I shall likely be asleep. I hope to remain that way until 6. We shall see. Read More 
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Atlantic City

Improbably, in 11 years of sitting ringside, I had never been to Atlantic City prior to this past weekend. Circumstances always conspired to prevent it, and I never pushed especially hard for the opportunity to lose my boardwalk virginity. Notwithstanding Susan Sarandon and Burt Lancaster, the place always struck me from afar as an especially sad and washed-up version of Las Vegas. And so, it turns out, it is: even more so these days than ever before, with shuttered casinos, closed shops, and an empty boardwalk. If I found myself nonetheless strangely comfortable there, it was probably the result of growing up in a similarly faded seaside resort.

I did not see either Mr. Lancaster or Ms. Sarandon. I did see Sergey Kovalev defeat Bernard Hopkins.





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