We are the new AmericanaHigh on legal marijuanaRaised on Biggie* and NirvanaWe are the new Americana — Lyrics from New Americana by Halsey (2015) August 10, 1995 “Hey Tiffany, I’m really sorry to hear that Jerry Garcia+ died.” “Thanks, Jeff. It’s such a shock.” “Yeah, I remember how I felt the day Kurt Cobain++ died.” … Continue reading Molly’s Lips
Alcoholism
Been Drinking Brew for Breakfast
My brother Dana bought London Calling right when it came out. The 1979 Clash album hit the record stores in December. By the time Dana returned to college at the end of January, I was hooked. Our bedrooms sat across the hall from each other—his room facing the street, my room facing the back yard. … Continue reading Been Drinking Brew for Breakfast
Headaches
Like a vice tightening on the back of my head. That’s how I describe my headaches. Which headaches? All of them. I get my fair share, maybe a little more. Often enough to pay close attention to them. I know the causes. I know how to fix them. When I was a drinker—not the moderate … Continue reading Headaches
When I was a D!ck
Years ago, when I joined The Writers' Brigade, Gettysburg's only public writers' group, long-time member Keith Johnson put a name to the steady stream of intensely personal prose I churned out. He called it confessional nonfiction. The name fit. Much of what I produced seemed to spring from an uncontrollable desire to come clean. To … Continue reading When I was a D!ck
Pray for Mike
We took pills, Mike and me. Lots of them. Mike took Darvon, an opioid. He found a giant plastic bottle in his Grandmother’s linen closet, one thousand pills. She used to be a nurse. He brought them back to college, took them by the fistful. I took speeders. Caffeine pills. I had big plastic bottles, … Continue reading Pray for Mike
Blogging, Disabilities & Other Stuff
“People are idiots.” That’s my standard response when a blogger writes about being mistreated because of their disability. I use that phrase all the time—with all the disabled bloggers I follow. You might wonder why I read so many blogs about disability. It’s a fair question. It abuts a question that Susan asks me all … Continue reading Blogging, Disabilities & Other Stuff
The Brickskeller
On January 17, 1991, the United States Navy bombed the holy-hell out of Iraq. For the first time in eighteen years, the U.S. was at war. My response? I went out drinking. DCs premier beer-bar, the Brickskeller, hosted a tasting of Bell’s Third Coast Beer that night. As I primped for my evening out, the … Continue reading The Brickskeller
Regrets, I’ve had a few
Everyone’s tired. Everyone’s grumpy. We're all exhausted. We pulled in last night at 9:30 after our whirlwind tour of North Carolina colleges. We live in Pennsylvania. It’s practically a southern state compared to New England states like New Hampshire or Vermont, but our winter suits none of us. Especially Sophie. She’s a high school junior, … Continue reading Regrets, I’ve had a few
Dry. Part 2.
Dry. It really sucks. Dry, meaning alcohol free, it’s miserable. At least it is for me. Lots of us (dry people) use the euphemism sober. It sounds adult, more mature. I don’t call myself sober because of what it implies, which is: not drunk. It’s not that I’m not not drunk, it’s just that before, … Continue reading Dry. Part 2.
Blackouts
Like everyone else, I’m writing about the Kavanaugh hearing. But because I’m self-centered, I’m really writing about myself. I’ve barely paid attention to this news cycle. I don’t have cable TV. I never watch videos on news websites, and I only spend a few minutes each day listening to the radio. Almost everything I know … Continue reading Blackouts
Crest the Hill
I’m certain this is bad mojo, Dunston isn’t dead. But it’s probably the nicest thing I can offer a person. I don’t communicate well. When people ask my opinion, it comes out combative, abrupt. When I give a compliment, I unintentionally balance some bad with the good. It’s only when I can sit at a … Continue reading Crest the Hill
My Week of Leisure
“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” I’ve heard this question six times over the past few days. There is no work. At least not this week. I resigned from my job. It wasn’t working out, I didn’t like it… at all. Friday was my last day. I’ve got something in the works. A part-time … Continue reading My Week of Leisure
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
“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
Panic
Jan 2 - Panic. Weighing me down. Tugging at my feet. Pulling me beneath the surface. I’ve been swimming on the edge of a panic attack for twelve hours, so I’ve carved out some time to write about it. Typically, I call these anxiety attacks, but right now what I’m feeling is panicky. My medications … Continue reading Panic
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
The Other Stuff 