Gettysburg is known for three things: Ghost tours, ice cream and pizza. If you abolish those three business categories, the storefronts are empty. There’s nothing left. No place for the tourists to go. Tourists? Oh right, I guess Gettysburg is also known for its civil war battle. I live in the sort of town where … Continue reading Meat Adds Flavor!
Reality Check
In 1995, I was hit by a car. That’s what people say, “I was hit by a car.” In my case, it isn’t accurate. A car was hit by me. A minivan actually. Every morning I saw myself as a bike-commute warrior. Or maybe an urban mountain biker. I traded seamlessly from bike path to … Continue reading Reality Check
And then I woke up
I laid low. Avoided attention. Kept my mouth shut. During class I dreaded being called on. I used the tried-and-true technique of keeping my head down, never make eye contact with the teacher. When I raised my hand, I knew the answer, cold. Or I wouldn’t raise my hand. The class was Human Development, one … Continue reading And then I woke up
God, Guns, Country
The sign appeared one day on the normal route. That’s what Susan and I call the loop around our neighborhood, the normal route. It’s neat how names develop. “Which way do you want to go?” “Let’s take the normal route.” Eventually it sticks. Sometimes we walk it, sometimes we run it. We’re not the only … Continue reading God, Guns, Country
Pumped Up
I dreamed about ‘the woods’ last night. The woods were a sprawling swath of undeveloped land separating my neighborhood from Interstate 270. During my grade school years, my friends and I spent our afternoons and weekends searching for salamanders and crayfish under rocks in the rainwater stream bisecting the woods. We roamed well-worn paths and … Continue reading Pumped Up
Every day is the same. I check the news expecting something terrible. I’m rarely disappointed.
80/20
Something weird happened. After work this evening I went for a run. That’s not the weird part, I do that all the time. Eli and I are taking a longish bike ride tomorrow so I wanted to save my legs—my run was really a slow jog. That’s not weird either. I recently started following the … Continue reading 80/20
I don’t care. I love my new truck.
Whoa. I bought a truck. Typically, I’d name a post like this as part of my cliffhanger collection—Cliffhanger pt. 5 or something like that. A time to catch readers up with what’s going on in my life, but I hope to do something more with this. More than a catch-up. Maybe cover some new ground. … Continue reading I don’t care. I love my new truck.
Mission Accomplished?
Irony makes me smile. Tomorrow, I drive to Gaithersburg, Maryland, maybe eight miles from where I grew up, to complete my transformation into a Pennsylvanian. We’re going there to look at a pickup truck. I moved to Pennsylvania fifteen years ago looking for an escape from urban life. Although, my childhood in Rockville, Maryland could … Continue reading Mission Accomplished?
Coming apart at the seams
Remember when news was boring? It wasn’t long ago, six maybe seven years. I googled the biggest stories of 2013. The Boston Marathon bombing—that one was huge. Things get pretty tame after that. Lance Armstrong’s doping scandal and Prince George’s birth. Those are a couple of the more notable stories of the year. Midday today, … Continue reading Coming apart at the seams
The American Way
I’m tired. Really tired. Worn out. I’ll make my case, and you can roll your eyes and tell me to buck up. People have infants, or children with special needs, or two jobs, or three jobs, or an active social life. People are busy. People are used to being busy. I’m not. The week that … Continue reading The American Way
Mixing metaphors and massive thoughts
Transform from a body at rest into a body in motion. Imagine a banquet table, round, eight feet across, ample seating for ten or twelve. An array, a menu of choices heaped upon the table. Not food, but aspects of my life. The one I want, for myself, for my family. The table must be … Continue reading Mixing metaphors and massive thoughts
The Drop Off
“Oh!” "What?" "I think I forgot my shoes." Flashback to twenty-five minutes earlier, Sophie walking out of the house barefoot. Me: “Hey, are your shoes in the car?” Eye roll. We just got back on track. Not from the shoe incident (although we did return home to get her shoes) but from a missed turn. … Continue reading The Drop Off
A Final Hoorah
I like the word flurry. Flurries are chaotic but benign, exciting but ultimately of little consequence. Flurry sounds fun; it rhymes with scurry. Scurry might be the most playful word I know. I just ate a Dairy Queen Blizzard, so of course I’m thinking about a McFlurry (MacDonald's knock-off version of a Blizzard). When she … Continue reading A Final Hoorah
Forerunner 35
I threw my watch away two months ago. The band was broken, duct taped, and broken again. I last connected it to my computer in 2014 when I got the error message ‘software no longer compatible.’ I can’t remember when I bought it. Eli, now fifteen, was maybe in kindergarten. The running store where I … Continue reading Forerunner 35
Cliffhanger No. 3
Cliffhanger. Do people know this word? My generation does, and those generations before me. It’s old fashion-y, like nickelodeons and world’s fairs. Nickelodeons—I just stumbled on this word while I looked up the etymology of cliffhanger. The first cinemas were called nickelodeons—back around the turn of the century (the prior one, old fashion-y, remember). People … Continue reading Cliffhanger No. 3
A Second Civil War
I’ll be happy when Donald Trump realizes: No, he’s not exceptional. It’s incredibly satisfying going through life believing you know more than everyone else. I used to believe this. Maybe not that I was the best, but certainly in the top ten percent. I call this thirty-itis. It’s an inflammation of the brain. In your … Continue reading A Second Civil War
Dear 1990s Jeff
Dear 1990s Jeff, Consider this fair warning, 2020 is totally fucked up. Can I swear at you? I know you swear frequently, I remember that stage in your life. I don’t swear anymore, except in writing where I have something of a potty-mouth, but only because written swear words carry lots of shock value—much more … Continue reading Dear 1990s Jeff
Target
Oops, I ghosted my blog. Last Tuesday, I freaked out. In writing. I ranted about my blood pressure, certain kidney failure and vertigo. I thought I was dying. I was so convincing, both of my brothers texted me the next day to check up on me. I got a dozen blog comments, all saying the … Continue reading Target
When things aren’t right
This happened before, years ago, mornings just like today, a common occurrence. Over-thinking. A bad night’s sleep. Shaky. Hungover. Dry heaving. Brain-fogged. I don’t miss it. At all. I’ve worked myself into a tizzy. Tizzy (noun): a state of nervous excitement or agitation. Nervous excitement sounds fun. I’m in the agitation camp. I’m worried I’m … Continue reading When things aren’t right
The Other Stuff 