Intellectual bathroom graffiti: I F*@KED YOUR MOTHER! Directly beneath this gem, in a different pen, a different hand: GO HOME DAD, YOU”RE DRUNK! I’d like to stop right there. A flash-post. Call it done. Flash what? Not fiction. This one is real. On the bathroom wall of the Tune Inn, circa 1986. Every time I … Continue reading I miss…
Substance Abuse
A new me
The drinker who doesn’t drink. That’s me. I quit eighteen months ago. No backsliding, no cheating. Once I got through the first few months, it hasn’t really been that bad. I have Tourettes Syndrome. But you’d never know it. My tics are fully in control. Effectively medicated with no obvious side-effects. As an added bonus, … Continue reading A new me
Whitey and the Riff Raff
In 1983, my college dorm room was an important meeting place. Monday through Friday at 3:00, my roommate and four or five of our friends would gather to watch General Hospital. I write this in a way that implies zero involvement from me. But that’s only partially true. I rarely settled in to watch GH, but … Continue reading Whitey and the Riff Raff
“Hey, I should warn you, Charlene has googly eyes.” “What does that mean?” They pop way out, like on a frog… or a bug.” “Um, thanks for the warning.” At the start of my career, I worked for a Fortune 500 defense contractor called TRW. One company, 30,000 employees. In an effort to maintain a … Continue reading Google
Dying with Gilda Radner
One year since publishing Fragments. My favorite story from the book. As an adult, I reinvented myself. Naturally bookish and wry, and a big drinker for years, I became an athlete as well. Fitness and endurance sports. Confident, funny, and carefree. Always on the move, distracted, numb. No opportunity, no reason to revisit the past. … Continue reading Dying with Gilda Radner
Pornography
Published one year ago this week in my memoir Fragments. My mother's birthday was last week. I totally forgot. Percussive. Dark, haunting, haunted. Repetitive, chromatic – evoking angst, possibly fear. Lyrics shouted from a distance, from the bottom of a ravine. Echoing, urgent. Chanting, mumbling, confusion. Chest tight, stomach in knots. Eight complex songs, each … Continue reading Pornography
Drugs
Monday morning at 7:00AM: I’m sitting down to write. I’ve read the news, stretched my body, done my part in getting my kids on their school bus, and made myself presentable for work. It’s been a productive morning. Over the weekend, I seamlessly traded off between chores, exercise, reading, errands, volunteer work and spending time … Continue reading Drugs
Caffeinated
7:15 on Tuesday morning. Not a specific Tuesday morning, but any Tuesday morning. My laptop’s on my lap, and my coffee is next to me on a coaster. Printed on that coaster is “Hold me closer, Tony Danza.” It’s a gift from a friend who enjoyed my essay “Dewey Finn and the Dunder Chief” in … Continue reading Caffeinated
Carrie & George
Today, I’m revisiting a topic I wrote about over two years ago… I’m even starting with the same sentence: http://undercrust.blogspot.com/2014/11/pre-apocalypse.html I’m going to live forever. Ask my kids, they’ll tell you. They’ve been hearing about it for years. Immortality is my mantra; something I talk about constantly. For the past ten years, I’ve been boasting … Continue reading Carrie & George
My Day Off
It’s Monday, so I must be depressed. When I was a kid (and by kid, I mean in my twenties) Sunday nights were rock bottom. My weekends went like this: Thursday: at work, a rush of anticipation. Thursday night: always a big party—enter a dance club early, 9:00ish, still mostly empty. Stay until closing, alternating … Continue reading My Day Off
The Hard Days
I had my last drink almost eleven months ago; I quit somewhere in the middle of last January. But I’m not sure exactly when. And yes, it’s ridiculous that I don’t know the date. I thought I did, but two or three weeks after I quit, I couldn’t remember if it was two or three … Continue reading The Hard Days
Never again
Saturday at noon: “Jeff, go grab a beer.” “Hey Jeff, can I pour you a mug?” “Get a glass; you deserve a cold one.” This was a few minutes after I finished a 15K. I heard the same thing after a June marathon, a September 10K, the other day at work. “Jeff drop by tonight, … Continue reading Never again
Beer Running
Email message from Mark: Jeff, are you planning on joining us this week? My reply: Wednesday nights suck. Eli and I do a drum circle. Or: Overbooked. Wednesday is my writers group. Or: Sorry, parenting responsibilities. Susan’s taking a class. Gotta cook for the kids. Or… Not this week, I have a work thing; Or… nope, early morning on Thursday. Sometimes, … Continue reading Beer Running
Building an Embassy
Three years of blogging, hundreds of stories, hundreds of thousands of words, but I’ve only mentioned Kiera once. This wasn’t intentional; she just never came up. I didn’t even notice this omission until I started assembling my book. Once I realize that she was nowhere to be found, I was shocked that I could write … Continue reading Building an Embassy
My Intervention(s)
This year I gave up drinking. I quit my lifelong addition. Or my adult life addition—it didn’t really start until I was fourteen. And it didn’t gain any consistency until I was off in college at seventeen. For twenty years I was a heavy drinker—a drinker focused on getting drunk. But as I settled down … Continue reading My Intervention(s)
My Lonely, Forgotten Beer
Taco Tuesday—it always seems like such a good idea. An easy meal to make, and everyone loves it. An unconstrained variety of ingredients, anyone’s perfect meal. Shrimp and black beans for me, spicy beef and cheese for my kids, Susan likes tacos as a vehicle for avocados and Cholula. We all like the salsa. But … Continue reading My Lonely, Forgotten Beer
A Girl and a Band
I've been fiddling with book edits and not writing much new stuff, but I wanted to get something out on my blog. This is a story I wrote almost a year ago. It's been on my mind quite a bit lately because I got some push-back in my spin class over a Sonic Youth song (Tunic). I'm hoping … Continue reading A Girl and a Band
Dry
Christ, I feel like shit. My teeth hurt. They feel rattled, loose. Like I've been punched in the jaw – more than once. I'm grinding so hard, my tooth-alignment is actually changing. My bite is crooked. My head aches; My neck is stiff; I'm so agitated, it's hard to take a deep breath. A few … Continue reading Dry
Stephen King
In high school, I gave up his books. I quit right in the middle of the Dead Zone. I was binging: Carrie, Night Shift, The Shining, The Stand, and then half of the Dead Zone – one after another, all at once. I was having dreams. Not exactly bad dreams, but unsettling ones. So I … Continue reading Stephen King
