My little mountain town of Park City, Utah, will be invaded, as it is every year at the end of January, by the People-In-Black, “PIBs” as they’re affectionately referred to by the locals. They come with their Starbucks-latte hand accessories, their after-the-sun-goes-down sunglasses, and their extraordinarily large, furry boots.

Since they are forbidden to wear any color besides black — I think Robert Redford must have issued some kind of rule about this early on — they are challenging for drivers to see during the prime Sundance hours of 6 p.m. to 6 a.m., except for their glowing, white Starbucks cups, of course.

This is a problem because PIBs don’t use sidewalks. ...

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I have never given much thought to angels, whether in my life or in my wine, but yesterday changed that.

I was talking to a friend, Sandra—a shorthaired, always-smartly-dressed businesswoman in the financial industry whose money advice I listen to. She asked me if I wanted to experiment with “Angel Cards.” She had been working with them for about nine months and wanted to share them with me.

What... Was... She... Saying... To... Me? Was she speaking in English? It was like there was no mental connection between my BUSINESS/MONEY side and my FAIRY/ANGEL side. ...

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