We are the new AmericanaHigh on legal marijuanaRaised on Biggie* and NirvanaWe are the new Americana — Lyrics from New Americana by Halsey (2015) August 10, 1995 “Hey Tiffany, I’m really sorry to hear that Jerry Garcia+ died.” “Thanks, Jeff. It’s such a shock.” “Yeah, I remember how I felt the day Kurt Cobain++ died.” … Continue reading Molly’s Lips
Let me set the mood: October 1, 2017 – Las Vegas shooting, 60 dead, 413 wounded November, 5 2017 – Sutherland Springs church shooting, 26 dead, 22 wounded February 14, 2018 – Marjory Stoneman Douglas shooting, 17 dead, 17 wounded February 15, 2018 – Anastasia Bernoulli wrote her viral blog post “Fuck you, I like … Continue reading …and I don’t give a crap what anyone thinks!
The 5th Beatle Walking TallThe Walking DeadWalk on the Wild SideLong Walk to FreedomI Walk the LineThese Boots are made for WalkingWalk this WayWalking on SunshineThe Long WalkDead Man WalkingA Walk in the WoodsHow to Walk Movies, music, books—it permeates our culture. We even know catchy sayings like walk a mile in his shoes, and … Continue reading Walk Away, Baby
Regrets, I've had a few —Lyric from My Way by Frank Sinatra Are we still on this theme? The readers who saw my last blog post about the book The Midnight Library know I’ve been poking the topic of regrets for a week. Coincidence, or maybe fate, kept the subject front and center. Unsurprisingly, it … Continue reading Am I Arthur?
I sent Matt Haig a tweet. What are you, like thirty? How is it that you know so much about life? He’s not thirty, he’s forty-seven, but this was years ago, when I still used Twitter, when I read his book The Humans. Last night I closed the book on The Midnight Library. Maybe not … Continue reading The Midnight Library
9/11 is old enough to drink. 9/11 is an adult—if twenty-one is actually an adult. Sophie can’t rent a car until she’s twenty-five. Kids can stay on their parent’s medical insurance until they turn twenty-six. My own adolescence didn’t end until I turned thirty-three. So maybe not quite an adult yet, but yes, old enough … Continue reading 9/11 is old enough to drink
Why should I care, why should I care? Lyric from 5:15 by the Who Poor taste. I turn sixty next month. The next line of this song is 'Girls of fifteen, sexually knowing.' Every time I sing that lyric, I feel tarnished—stained, dirty. Is it creepy that Joan Jett still sings I Love Rock and … Continue reading End of an Era
Trigger warning: All kinds of disturbing stuff in this one. “I shot the clerk. I shot the clerk.” In a pivotal scene in the sleeper classic My Cousin Vinny, Ralph Macchio of Karate Kid fame is wrongly arrested in the killing a convenience store attendant. When first accused, in utter disbelief, Billy Gambini, played by … Continue reading I Killed the Crow
Not my shoulder, I don't see a doctor for this. Sigh. Another Saturday afternoon on the couch nursing a boo-boo. Someone added a new mountain biking obstacle—a bridge of logs lined up perpendicular to the trail, maybe seven feet long. The bridge doesn’t actually span anything, the only purpose is to have fun. Like a … Continue reading Subluxation… Again
“Oh no coach, you’re bleeding!” “I’m always bleeding.” I can’t believe I still have this conversation. Honestly, everyone should know by now. Back at the cars after a mountain bike ride, blood streaks my arms. A kid, usually one of the younger ones, approaches me with concern. At some point during the ride, I brush … Continue reading Blooms
I think I thought I seen her on eighth and forty-deuce… —From the Beastie Boys’ She’s Crafty(I love this lyric. I love this song). For Song Lyric Sunday My years of blogging launched an annoying habit. I became a serial commenter. When I read a blogpost, if the topic relates to me in any way, … Continue reading She’s Crafty
On August fifth, it still seemed like a big joke. I’m thankful I never posted this on Facebook. I almost did: Today, Anne Heche Tiger Woods-ed herself. That’s me, directing inappropriate levity and maybe a bit of schadenfreude at not one, but two celebrities involved in high-speed, inebriated, single vehicle crashes. It remained unclear at … Continue reading What I know
<Slurring> “I know zhu believe that. We TALKED about thish BEFORE!” I waited, lined up in the pub. No servers here, you want something, you order it at the counter—food, drink, merch. Or maybe at the bar, if you’re lucky enough to get a seat at the bar. Five, six people away from the register. … Continue reading Poke at the Hive
I’m sensitive. No, really, I am. I’m a grown man scared of ghosts. Eli’s horror movie phase only lasted about a year. As a young teenager, he blew through an extensive list of well-known titles. The Exorcist, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Shining, et al. Trying to participate, I suggested we watch the 1982 film … Continue reading Ghost Story
Eli left for work at seven yesterday and didn’t return until six-thirty last night. Sophie came home from a weekend away yesterday, popped out of bed this morning, her birthday, and drove off to educate a gaggle of kids in animal science. Susan, excused from attending work in-person, trades off remote work and managing our … Continue reading Goldbricking
My hips ached. I couldn’t sleep. At three o’clock, it occurred to me to take some ibuprofen. That helped, but way too late, I was up. I took my Covid test at five. The extra line, the positive line, showed up in ninety seconds. I spent the next fourteen minutes Googling whether it might disappear. … Continue reading Isolation or Vacation?
The guy pulling the strings over at the Other Stuff isn’t doing his job. Generally, I resent bloggers making excuses for their absences. They all start with “Sorry I haven’t posted in so long…” and end with “I’m back, and I promise to do better.” Hollow promises. These self-chastising posts always represent a predictable step … Continue reading Katherine Dunn gives me a poke
My coworker Bob called them chapter breaks—those steps in our fitness level that we periodically tumble down, never to return. I noticed this first in my thirties. I lined up a string of successes, personal records in a couple of races—a 10K and a ten-mile—a respectable marathon time, twenty-third overall in a thirty-three-story stair climb … Continue reading Decline
♫ My sister got lucky, married a yuppie, took him for all he was worth... ♫ --Lyrics from “Yer So Bad” by Tom Petty and Jeff Lynne “This is suburban music, right Jeff?” Maria, denigrating my friends from Virginia. We stood immersed in a din of drinkers shouting over, or singing along with the album … Continue reading Ode to Suburbia
. My dad called me. “Jeff, do you know Allie Winston?” “No, I don’t think I know that name.” “Well, boy, he sure knows you!” Since my stepmother died, my father has been trying to find ways to fill his days. Initially, he immersed himself in the arduous task of wrapping up her affairs—selling her … Continue reading Jeffrey, Eat your Beans!