Sunday 8:00 AM: Fairfax Coffee on Fairfax Street, Berkeley Springs, West Virginia. A large space: clean, polished wood; cushioned booths; organized counter; hip, polite staff. Susan and I ordered Macchiatos and orange cranberry muffins. A nice break from the hotel continental breakfast of bland coffee and boxed donuts. Berkeley Springs, a secluded hamlet on the … Continue reading Pampered?
Month: September 2017
…and now, Nuclear War
Hurricanes, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, super malaria. This is today’s Google News feed. Proof that the end-days are upon us. Evidence that God, or the gods, are pissed. Yes, there are a million ways to die, and natural catastrophes seem to be trending right now. For the past month, I’ve found reading the news to be … Continue reading …and now, Nuclear War
In the comments section of a blog I follow: Me: I hate Bono, he's just like Sting. Blogger: The only thing I know about Sting is that he can have sex for hours without having an orgasm. Me: Why would you want to do that? I'd get bored.
Stop or I’ll shoot!
This morning’s headline: Police and protesters clash in St. Louis after former officer who shot black driver acquitted on murder charges. That’s a long headline! I’m getting a bit old. Edging past middle-aged. Long in the tooth. Over the hills. I grew up in a different world. A world before internet, video games and cable … Continue reading Stop or I’ll shoot!
I have two children. Sophie, 15, is likes to draw. She sings along with the radio. She goes for miles-long bike rides around the Gettysburg battlefield. This year, she joined the tennis team at school. Eli, 12, likes to watch cool shit on YouTube. OK, that does Eli a disservice. Not only does he like … Continue reading Cool S#!t
People change. Overtime, over the years, personalities morph. They bend, adjust, reboot. Introverts become extroverted. The immature find maturity. The hopeful become bitter. The shy become bold. Introverted by nature, I like to be alone. My hobbies, distance running and reading, are solitary activities. Time spent quietly in my own head. Only myself as company. … Continue reading Something’s up
Quinn calls her fiancé “Scrubs.” Marie Christine calls her husband “Not Tom Brady.” The Boeskool calls his wife “my wife.” A runner/blogger I sometimes read named Sam calls his wife “Mrs. Sam.” In my blog, I call my wife “Susan,” which may or may not be her real name. My favorite author is the wildly … Continue reading “Susan”
The cost of blogging
Acer 14" Chromebook, 32GB Flash Memory: $299.00 WordPress Premium upgrade with custom URL: $99.00 100 Vistaprint business cards to publicize book and blog: $16.00 One comment informing me that a post I wrote helped a reader gain understanding and relief from their own personal problems: Priceless via Daily Prompt: Priceless
My public self: confident, controlled, together. And then I blog: vulnerable, messy, confused. Tourette Syndrome. The tics I suppress with medications, mostly: Thigh-punching. Eye-rolling. Body-scratching. Tooth-scraping. Grunting. Pay attention, you see them, hear them. I lack repose. Always moving, twitching. My brain in motion, fueled by anxiety. By obsession. By worry. Those conditions that accompany … Continue reading Messy
“Stop fighting us Mr. Cann, we’re doing all we can to keep you alive.” I don’t remember this admonishment—I’d just barreled head first into a minivan on my bicycle—a hospital resident told me the story after I stabilized. But this head injury isn’t what sent me to critical care, it was the internal bleeding. The … Continue reading Mortality
Throwback Thursday: my first blog post, ever. September 30, 2013. Lather was thirty years old today. They took away all of his toys. His mother sent newspaper clippings to him, about his old friends who’d stopped being boys. How appropriate that this Jefferson Airplane lyric has been stuck in my head for the past few … Continue reading Lather