Stuff I remember from back in the day that I felt was worth writing down and chewing on for a spell.
I was digging around in a few boxes in the garage tonight when I came across a thin hard-covered little book I hadn’t seen in a while. The little book was a journal from the summer of 1994. A travel notebook. Decorating the front cover of the notebook is an old map with hand-drawn...
Read more →For whatever reason, whenever I hear a Richard Marx song, I think mainly of two things- one, the killer CD boom box my brother bought back in the day, and the other, mowing yards on sweltering summer afternoons in 1988. I think of the killer CD boom box because it had exceptional bass, complete...
Read more →I have never considered myself a very competent reader. I don’t have a memory for ideas and details like my brother, who can recall peculiar lines from movies verbatim after one sitting, and facts from articles and books that are relevant to life, for which I have no filing system in my brain. I...
Read more →At age 43, I often think I should be farther along in life than I am. In love. In a profession. In handling the daily grind. I’ve been on this planet for four decades, and have seen more minutes of living than a number of people I have liked or appreciated: Chris Farley was...
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