I enjoyed helping Mrs. H. She had boosted my confidence during my first week, after she called me handsome. Handsome and dapper, she called me. It didn't make me feel uncomfortable, though. She put me at ease.Unlike the client Sue gave me a demonstration with, as I shadowed her for my new role as a business banker for one of the nation's biggest banks. The role was a step down from my previous job as a financial adviser at an elite wealth management firm in Washington, D.C.

There's a bustling madness reverberating throughout New York City that often makes it hard to feel "outdoors," even on a literal jaunt through one of the many lush grids of urban green space. But, here in Manhattan and its outer boroughs, the great outdoors - and its many opportunities afforded to city dwellers - does exist.Even if rock climbing is what you crave. That's what I went in search of on a recent Saturday romp through Central Park - Gotham alfresco.

I had my concerns.In the month of September, Goree Island, best known for its dark past as a hub in the transatlantic slave trade, hosts an annual Dakar-Goree swim. More than 500 local and expat amateur swimmers start on the tip of Dakar, which is also the most westerly point of Africa, and end on Goree. But the best way to prepare for the 4.5-km swim (almost 3 miles) is to swim from Ngor to Ngor Island. That's about 1.5 km, or almost a mile.

Welcome to The Thread, OZY's brand new weekly podcast, unlocking a series of linked histories starting with the murder of John Lennon and stretching all the way back to the Russian Revolution. Subscribe now to follow The Thread on Apple or on OZY.com.Many men do something bold or adventurous as they approach the age of 40 - some buy sports cars, others take up new hobbies - and even famous rock stars succumb to the urge.

Listicles on the most bike-friendly cities in Europe mostly get things right, consistently naming Copenhagen, Denmark; Berlin; Amsterdam; and Ljubljana, Slovenia, at the top of the list. But, there's a city that's being shamefully ignored: Warsaw. Part of the fifth-largest bike-sharing system in Europe and with 310 miles of cycling routes, Poland's metropolis couldn't be an easier place to pedal the day away.

Bivalves, beware. On the mangrove banks of the Colombian Pacific, a hunter is wading into thick, soupy mud and bending over. Then she plunges her hands down into the earthy broth, finds a mangrove root and feels around for ... there it is! A hard shell containing a succulent little pearl of sea meat.The people call it piangua. Sure, it might be a hard word to force out for the non-Spanish speaker, but piangua is easy to gulp down.

Standing in front of the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey circus in San Jose, California, the kids, my kids, who had previously been excited at the prospect of seeing said circus, were sobbing. Animal rights activists were screaming about the mistreatment of elephants, complete with video, and so it was that the clearinghouse for the wild and death-defying died.

A young woman sits in the stylist's chair, staring intently in the mirror as her newly dyed light purple hair is blow-dried. Within seconds, the targeted hair is transformed into a neon hot pink. As the airstream is directed to another part of her head, the pink patch magically reverts to its original cool violet.Welcome to the world of color-changing fashion, and to the first-ever heat-reactive hair color, Pravana Vivids Mood Color, which hit salons earlier this month.

My father was a Southern preacher. Who was married four times and abandoned me. You see, he cheated on his first wife with my mother, and that's how I got involved in this whole thing.My mom got the idea to move away from New Jersey to North Carolina for a fresh start, though. Which meant: away from my dad's four children from his first marriage, who lived around the corner from us. Away from the ones he called "his kids," as if my mother had conceived me on her own.

EUGENE, SIR: I read your column about “Bloody Love.” Well, my husband and I got into some stuff that scares us a bit. I started harming myself and we still had sex. It was damn lusty and nasty in some kind of way, but we feel like we can’t repeat it. It was hot while we were doing it, but the morning after, when I looked at the wounds, it felt like a hangover. What can we do about it? It was some kind of kick, but we’re terrified that we might need more and more.