Thump, Thump, Thump, Pap, Another one bites the dust. Thump, Thump, Thump, Pap, Another one bites the dust. This was the biggest song of the year when I was a college freshman—1980-1981. This statistic is backed up by billboard charting, but really, you simply needed to be in a college dormitory to know this fact. … Continue reading Another One Bites the Dust
Substance Abuse
Buzz, revisited
Last week, I posted a story, Buzz, that paints a picture of drug use. It wasn’t encouraging or cautionary. It offered no opinion. It was simply a snapshot, a vivid scene featuring four intoxicated teens. It went nowhere. Stats-wise, it was my worst performing story in a year. Thirty page-views, two commenters, not so many likes. … Continue reading Buzz, revisited
Buzz
The four of us huddle in the dorm room, lights low, a single candle burns on the coffee table. The candle sits in a mountain of wax covering what was simply a Budweiser bottle just a few hours ago. Each of us digs at the candle, at the wax-mound, with glowing hot paperclips. Heat the … Continue reading Buzz
About Death
Michael Weeks at forty-two years old: he spends his evenings in the company of his wife, his children and his dogs. He’s fulfilled by his career; his relationships are steady; his hobbies, rewarding. He’s healthy, and he’s happy. Michael Weeks at forty-two years old: he’s lonely, divorced, dissatisfied with his friendships, miserable in his unfulfilling … Continue reading About Death
Jenn, Lance & Me
I feel like someone has stolen my baby… or at least my cat… or something… something important that I don’t want stolen. Two and a half years ago I published a story on the Runner’s World blogsite, the Loop. This is far less impressive than it sounds. Anyone with an account could post there, and … Continue reading Jenn, Lance & Me
Olivia’s
Dinnertime: Family conversation. Out of nowhere, Sophie announces her career change: “I’m going to get a job at Olivia’s.” My first response: “Who’s going to drive you to Olivia’s every night?” Sophie already has a job. She’s a babysitter at the Y. When parents with young children come in to exercise, Sophie’s the girl who … Continue reading Olivia’s
I miss…
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…
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
