Love's Work

When my sister and I were kids we used to listen for the resonant horn of New Jersey Transit and run out to meet my dad coming up the block in the twilight. We always lived near a train station so he could commute to a postproduction studio in the city. Sometimes he’d have movies in his briefcase, ones we couldn’t get at Blockbuster: subtitled Studio Ghibli VHS tapes on loan from a coworker, and the Streamline dubs from Kinokuniya, the Japanese bookstore in midtown.