Y’all don’t write enough blog posts. Around the start of the pandemic, my attention span shortened. A causal relationship? Probably. I felt compelled to check the Johns Hopkins covid map every twenty minutes. And then the news, looking for the next appalling thing President Trump said or did. He rarely disappointed. The covid numbers crept … Continue reading Kill the First Line
I’m an open book. Those in the know, Susan, my kids when they pay attention, possibly some coworkers, know my mood, my primal feelings just by watching and listening. Sitting on the couch this morning, talking to Susan, I started chewing on my pinky. Not at the end, my fingertip, like my kids chew on … Continue reading My Tell
Caution #1: This post contains *salty* language. Caution #2: Old, privileged, white guy whining about his ridiculous first-world non-problem. Aargh!! Neil Young has pulled his music catalog off of Spotify. There are two types of people in this world. Those who could not possibly care less about this, and the rest of us—that’s 6,128,499 people … Continue reading WTF, Neil?
I have an annoying habit. Actually, I’ve got dozens of annoying habits, but I’m only writing about one of them. If someone says something that reminds me of a song lyric, I sing it. “Aw, that’s cute,” you say. No, it’s not, I’m as tone deaf as a stone. I can’t carry a tune. ♫ … Continue reading The Calm and the Storm
Which came first, the chicken or the egg?I egged the chicken, then I ate his leg. -- The Beastie Boys You know that saying, which came first… Years ago, when I first met Robyn, we each showed our hand. Robyn: Tourette Syndrome is a comorbidity of autism. Jeff: Funny, I always heard of autism being … Continue reading Stimming
Mountain Top, Pennsylvania, how many times have I driven through this town? When I met Susan, we frequently visited her parents in Sayre, Pennsylvania. Upon retirement, they opened a bed and breakfast in Milford, Pennsylvania. We took annual trips to visit Susan’s brother in Amherst, Massachusetts. Now we head to Vermont to take Sophie to … Continue reading Mountain Top
I never know what I’ll write until the typing starts. Often a vague topic floats through my head, a hazy arrow pointing the way, just a theme, but with no clear idea where I’m going. Other times, I form a strong opening sentence, that’s all, just a sentence—no subject, no area of focus. This always … Continue reading Write on Schedule
I read it every December. The library owns a ratty old copy, a broken binding, a lousy font. The lines sit too close together. People like me with a propensity towards double vision struggle not to jump around—reread the last line, skip to the next. Even though I know I’ll read it, since I always … Continue reading A Christmas Carol (part ii)
And I quote: "I mean, ya gotta write about it. They’ll write about it for decades. Centuries? In 2253, second graders will still learn about the day the president told an angry mob to attack the U.S. Capitol." Quoting myself. Tonight, I looked back a year, curious to see what I wrote about the January … Continue reading 1/6/2022
Six years sober. Strong word, sober. It implies not drunk. Drunk wasn’t my problem, not six years ago. Twenty-six years ago, drunk fit well. Six years ago, sometimes buzzed, tipsy. But usually, just relaxed... every night. Relaxed or buzzed every night. Until I quit. New Year’s Day seems like a good sobriety anniversary. Easy to … Continue reading Six Years “Sober”
Tics: Involuntary sounds and movements associated with Tourette Syndrome. I admitted to my boss, I’m having trouble. It started with a nasty cold. Not Covid, my doctor tested me twice. The coughing never went away. It’s no longer the chesty, phlegmy cough of my three-week illness, the cough that stirred up mucus in my lungs, … Continue reading Tics. Part 45.
Blog stats: Ring Dings—six page views today. Published five years ago, suddenly it’s viral. Practically viral, at least for me. Did somebody email out the URL? Maybe it’s the “MORE ON WORDPRESS” recommendation at the bottom of somebody’s post. I wish I used better analytics. I’d like to know where the readers come from. Did … Continue reading Redux
I live a routine. Predictable, clockwork. I arrive at work at exactly the same time every morning. I drop off Eli at school at 7:15 and then drive a mile or so to the library. For a couple of years, I turned on the building lights every day. I beat my coworkers by at least … Continue reading A Beautiful Mind?
Yellow matter custardDripping from a dead dog's eyeCrabalocker fishwife, pornographic priestessBoy, you've been a naughty girl, you let your knickers down I am the egg manThey are the egg menI am the walrusGoo goo g'joob It’s gone six weeks since I last participated in Song Lyric Sunday. The website host, always somewhat chilly in his … Continue reading Song Lyric Sunday
I called in sick… again. I actually didn’t call; I sent a text to my boss and my assistant. This won’t affect their work. I manage my own schedule; the odd day off now and then impacts no one. My job is a silo. What I do is critical for the company, but I don’t … Continue reading Torches and Pitchforks
Sophie plays rugby. The Sunday before Thanksgiving, Susan and I drove to Poughkeepsie, New York, to watch her play in the American Collegiate Rugby Association semi-finals. She didn’t start, but she played, and I’m beyond proud that she’s playing collegiate rugby at this level. She had a rough season. Early on, she sprained her thumb. … Continue reading Thoughts and Prayers
I shopped Black Friday once. Twenty-five years ago, my soon to be sister-in-law’s BFF hosted a wedding shower the day after Thanksgiving. A traditional thing, they invited no men. Susan and I, along with my future in-laws descended on a densely populated town outside New York City. Because White Plaines is the only such town … Continue reading Black Friday
It’s the Saturday morning ritual, even though today is Tuesday—we're starting a Thanksgiving mega-long weekend . We sat on the couch—each with a second cup of coffee on the table next to us—planning the day. Susan had the HB McClure pad. A freebie pad of paper I scored in a meeting at work. It gets … Continue reading Freedom to Leave
Facebook message from Mary: Jeff, I feel an urge to write. Can you help me or recommend someone else who can? She recently lost someone—a shocking, heart-wrenching, premature death. Writing helps corral her thoughts. Flattering. Mary thinks I’m a writer. I responded with an email: I'm happy to pass on what I know—the basics. Here … Continue reading Brushing
Not my kitchen I couldn’t relax, or lie flat, or breathe. Susan googled heart attacks. We thought she should check, maybe, just in case. We carried the microwave—the new one—into the kitchen. It mounts under the cabinets, above the stove, doubles as an oven hood. It’s not too heavy, maybe fifty pounds, awkward, but manageable … Continue reading Proof of Age