If you’re gonna rip off another artist who has inspired you, then the least you owe them is a tip of the hat, so in the narrative voice of Margaret Atwood’s The Testaments (which if you don’t know, is an account of life under a dystopian fascist
C’mon now, let’s be honest. The internet is doo-doo now, nobody cares about blog writing by some middle-aged white man rando, and that’s ok. There, I said it. First, to myself, and now to you. I’ve dragged ass on writing and posting while wrestling
As promised in my last series of posts, here’s the story of why I took a break from publishing essays due to turning my full attention to doing something really hard, to make something right. I’d been in denial about it for decades, it was time to make
The first time I heard Rufus Wainwright’s voice was in the late nineties, in one of the nineties-est ways possible: on a mixtape made for me by a rad woman I struck up a conversation with in a coffee shop. I didn’t think I liked that kind
A quick note: In a spirit of mercy to myself and to you, my reader, I decided to table a piece I started writing directly referencing recent national events that we are all processing and likely needing some space away from, so I decided instead to offer you this for
It’s August in the late, hot summer of 1989, weeks before we start our senior year in high school, and we are sitting in my 1980 Honda Accord hatchback in Amy’s driveway, listening to Indigo Girls on cassette. Amy is singing softly with the tape: My place is
(A typical interaction between Me and the Universe) Universe: Teaching moment or torture? Me: Umm….torture, please! Universe: Ok, here’s a teaching moment. Me: (……..) The other day I was in a traffic situation in which someone did something super selfish and shitty, I honked and they flipped me off.
(alternate title: Heavy Mental Parking Lot) “Two hundred years of American technology has unwittingly created a massive cement playground of unlimited potential, but it was the minds of 11-year-olds that could see that potential.” -Craig Stecyk, 1975- from Skateboarder magazine In one memorable mid-eighties summer, a convergence
Somewhere, in recent years, I heard this wise little nugget; that you make the path by walking. And, man…did I need to hear THAT, because until that moment, the central premise of my self-pitying mid-life crisis narrative had been that a half-century of cautiously side-eyeing
New essay up now (The Opposite Shore), new hosting site (Ghost), new URL https://nondrowsyformula.ghost.io/. I can now deliver these writings as a newsletter, and am working on embedding audio so you can listen to me read my essays and rest those tired peepers. Thanks so much for