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November 2024
11.25
I feel like my eating habits are all over the place. I’m not eating as healthy (“healthily” as my wife calls it) as I once did. Which got me thinking. What if I create my own personal menu catered to me? Which items would I include?
As a parent, it’s easy to fall into the trap of eating the types of food kids crave. Think: chicken nuggets and cheeseburgers, Nutella sandwiches and potato chips. That type of food is not good for my body at my age. I’m not a kid anymore.
Anyway, I want to write more about this in an individual essay. I have my personal menu mostly done, save for dinner. I’m still trying to figure out dinner.
11.24
I haven’t written on my blog much the past two weeks. If you refer to my 11.12 post below, there’s your answer. Last night I rearranged my room again to make it a little less peaceful and a lot more conducive to writing. I wrote about that in a blog post today called “The Purpose and Placement of a Desk.”
11.13
DHH of 37signals writes about the “constant stream of needless communication” from schools to parents. As a parent, I feel this in my soul. I’ve written about it before ad nauseam on my own blog in the past. Hell, my wife and I were even having this discussion last night as our phones were buzzing with yet another notification, then another.
11.12
My writing room, as I call it, needed rearranging. I rearranged it. It’s peaceful now. Has a nice flow. My brain feels calmer and more focused already.
11.11
Okay Reddit. Time to stop injecting half the /subs with political references. Election wrapped up almost a week ago. It’s too late to explain how tariffs work.
11.10
The pot calling the kettle black. There’s a slew of videos on YouTube from right wing channels mocking Kamala supporter reactions to the election results. “Look at ’em cry” kind of thing.
Eh, hasn’t your Dear Leader been crying about a “stolen election” for the past four years? Hell, even crying wolf the night of this election until magically, when the numbers were in his favor, it was again free and fair; or, the ultimate Orwellian spin: proof he won in 2020, after all?
With that said, why anyone would record a video reaction response to their candidate losing and then broadcast it to the world is beyond me. A staging for dramatic effect. Anything for a view on social media I guess.
11.9
Youth basketball season starts soon and I’m pumped. I’m a coach and a parent. I love basketball. My number one goal is for my team to have fun and love the game even more by the end of the year. Basketball isn’t, and should never be, all about winning. It’s about the love of the game. Camaraderie. Teamwork.
11.8
There are a million and one essays and videos making attempts to explain why Democrats lost the presidential race. I agree with some and disagree with others. The one I haven’t read yet, and perhaps needs to be written, is how it’s less the DNC’s leaders and nominees to blame and more a small vocal group of its own supporters online who give Democrats and the left a bad name.
Those, specifically, who attack Rural America with stereotypes and generalization after generalization on platforms like YouTube, Substack, and Medium and on social media sites one after the next.
Elections are won and lost by those small shifts in Rural America votes. Do those places go red usually? Yes, but it used to be 55 to 45. Now it’s often 60-40 or, in some cases, 70-30, and it’s growing.
It may come as a surprise to these divisive loudmouths that rural Americans don’t like being stereotyped and will push back against this at the ballot box. But grifters gotta grift. They are the modern day Rush Limbaughs of the Left.
Rural America is not the backwards, dumb, ignorant monoculture often projected. I grew up there. Have family still there. Most all of my family. It’s insulting.
Are there people that fit certain stereotypes that live there? Yeah. A tiny sliver. But there are some real dumbasses that live in cities, too, in case you’ve never visited one.
I tried to warn you divisive a-holes this would happen. But hey, you gotta get those clicks, right?
11.7
I’ve been trying to figure out why my upper legs hurt so bad. I feel like I ran a half marathon. Then, after two days of feeling this way and an aching lower back to boot, it hit me: my son asked me to sprint with him the other day at the soccer field. I did so in a pair of chinos and work boots. It was running that did this to me. Where’s the Salonpas?
11.6
Virginia did what it was supposed to do. Way to go swing states of America. WTF. The original meaning.
11.5
Election Day in America. The Super Bowl of Politics. Fry up the chicken wings. Shoot up your veins with anxiety.
11.4
Every year, as the leaves fall, I go back to the drawing board. This year’s plan is better than last year’s plan. But I still need a different plan.
11.3
I still say Face to Face’s 1996 self-titled album is hella-underrated.
11.2
It’s my sister’s birthday today. When we were kids, I remember her not wanting to become a teenager. She wasn’t 13. Refused to be. She was 12 + 1.
11.1
My yard is nothing but leaves. Leaves everywhere. What’s worse, however, is that 90% of the trees on my property have yet to shed their leaves. This is my life. From now until December.
October 2024
10.31
Tis the season (or day) I play the Misfits song “Halloween” on repeat for approximately twelve hours.
10.30
I wrote a story about aluminum foil today.
10.29
In a strategic effort to keep me from consuming all of the Halloween candy for the soon coming trick or treaters, my wife purchased a very large bag of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups for me. She placed them on my side of the cabinet. I’m permitted to eat them at will. Problem is, I saw some Kit Kats in that other bag she had — and I know where that bag is. Mmm. Kit Kats.
10.28
A big part of writing online is constantly convincing yourself you’re not a terrible writer. It’s exhausting. Imposter Syndrome. If only DayQuil took care of it.
10.27
A jaded feeling.
10.26
It’s still my dad’s birthday even though he’s not around to eat cake any more. I ate some cake for him.
10.25
I’ve been feeling burned out by the Internet lately. Maybe it’s the seasonal allergies.
10.24
A juvenile squirrel not much bigger than my hand is hanging out by a tree next to my house. Gigantic mitts on the little fellow.
I don’t play softball. Basketball is my game. But I appreciate this kind of blog post: 2024 Softball Season Wrap. The older I get the more I appreciate the little things about playing sports with folks my age.
Can’t remember if I linked to this before on ‘random thoughts,’ but give it a read. This is what I was getting at in my post “Blog More, Hesitate Less.” From annie: “I love your week notes and day notes and art and lists.”
10.23
Jack Conte, CEO of Patreon and a musician himself, on the death of the ‘follower’ and the future of creativity on the web.
10.22
Today marks the start of the NBA regular season and my morning OCD of checking box scores for nearly every game until the end of June.
10.21
My dog had a seizure last night. Her first since January (that we are aware of). It lasted about 45 seconds to a minute. A helpless feeling. For her. For us. This morning she was back to her old self. I took her on a short walk. We laid down in the grass together under a shade tree. Considering her age and health, I don’t know how many more of these we’ll have together.
10.20
During this time of year, as the leaves change color, it’s hard to beat where I live. The Blue Ridge. The Shenandoah. The Appalachian Mountains. Red to orange to yellow. Breathtaking. Beautiful.
10.19
Richard Petty and I have something in common now: the no. 43.
10.18
TNB 2.0 is something that’s been on my mind for years. I’m not on Substack, but Substack feels like a good fit for this type of thing. Built-in community approach. TNB was my people. We’re all older now, but I’ve always disliked how social media essentially killed the original site. An unmet promise. Writers scattered. Started doing their own thing independently. Nothing wrong with this. I do it. Others disappeared from the Internet without a trace. But I miss the collective aspect of writing online.
I miss sharing a site with those guys and gals: Brad Listi, Lenore Zion, Sean Beaudoin, Jonathan Evison, Greg Olear, Gloria Harrison, Erika Rae, Rich Ferguson, Robin Antalek, J.D. Irwin, Ted McCagg, Justin Benton, Duke Haney, Richard Cox, Uche O., Susan Henderson, Zara Potts et al. I’m forgetting far more than I remember.
10.17
Rich Ferguson and Greg Olear. Two writers I consider mentors. They were my elders while I was writing for The Nervous Breakdown (TNB), a now defunct arts & literary collective no longer online. I hold them both in high regard. Rich, a poet, and Greg, the novelist. I interviewed both more than a decade and a half ago.
Finding this (“Post-Apocalyptic To-Do List“) on Greg’s Substack was a nice throwback. I could read Rich’s poetry for days. But, like Greg said, his spoken word performances are something to behold.
10.16
Finally updated my home page. You can click my name up top in the navigation to see what it looks like. I’ve been disliking how it was laid out for a while. No more. Added recent posts closer to the beginning and created a helpful guide for newer visitors. I like how it looks on my laptop. Mobile is okay, but that’s mobile. I don’t think I’ll ever be completely happy with the way any site looks on a phone.
10.15
Read a poem, every day. It’s good for the soul.
10.14
iA has one of the best company blogs out there. In “Our Android App is Frozen in Carbonite,” iA invokes Han Solo to detail their puzzling back-and-forth with Google to allow their app, iA Writer, Read/Write access on Drive and have its rights restored on the Google Play store.
The post is pretty hilariously written. Note the Star Wars dialogue used as subheadings. What else can you do but laugh at this point if you’re iA. Can’t get that time and effort back. Still, total bananas.
10.13
Shenandoah National Park is pretty much in my backyard. Not literally. But it’s a short drive. When we go up, it’s always early in the morning to beat the crowd. Today, however, we rode up around noon, and holy hell at the people.
If you ever plan a visit to Shenandoah National Park, do yourself a favor: arrive by 9 AM. And under no circumstance should you bring a tripod to set-up your phone while parked in the median. Do not do that or I will command the ravens to partake in their trickery.
10.12
Currently watching the documentary Filmage: The Story of Descendents/ALL.
10.11
Despite my wife forbidding me from dunking anymore because I’ve been known to throw my back out as a consequence, I have, nonetheless, been working on my upcoming birthday dunk. I still have some freakish athleticism left in the tank considering my age.
10.10
It’s my friend Josh’s birthday today. Known him my entire life down to the diaper-wearing stage and possibly, again, if the circle completes itself in years to come: back to the diaper-wearing stage. Too many memories to single out one. However, the one that always comes to mind on his birthday is because it took place on his birthday.
He fell on a bone in his backyard during his party. My mom saw the gash and said within earshot of him that he’d need a shot and stitches. Tetanus shot I assume? He started balling crying. Then his mom, Wanda, gave him red Kool-Aid to calm him and he came back outside and we had a persimmon fight. I made a poor tactical decision to hunker down in his treehouse. Me, Ben, and someone else. A bad idea. We were trapped. Every time we tried to leave, we’d get pelted with persimmons from all angles.
Another memory. One largely forgotten. Josh trying to drive his car around the Mule Barn, our old practice space pre-cabin. Derek had driven his car around the Mule Barn successfully, then bet Josh he couldn’t. I’d put clearance around six or seven feet, tops. I can’t remember if Josh made it all the way around. He may have backed up at some point. But I think he kept going despite it being an all-around (see what I did there) terrible idea.
And there was damage to his car. A dent along the door from hitting the corner of the Mule Barn. A side mirror knocked off. Something like that. Speak, memory. Or is the damage I’m thinking of tied into another memory — mixed and matched? Because there was also that time he slammed into the guardrail in his car around the curve near Bethel, freaked out, and drove to my house and my dad tried to get the dent out with a plunger because he didn’t want his dad to find out.
Not sure.
10.9
While we were sitting on the front porch, my wife, who is reading a book about turtles, informed me that the terrifying raptor sounds in Jurassic Park are actually tortoises making sweet music together. Now you know.
10.8
I’ve decided I’m not trimming my beard until I finish writing this book. Either I get this done (finally) or I’ll look like Rip Van Winkle the next time you see me. Place your bets.
Note: I will, however, trim around the edges of my mouth because eating with a long ‘stache, which I did during the pandemic, is not a good look. Mashed potatoes are straight up out of the question.
10.7
I’m terrible at my Buddhist practice. But I think that’s a good thing. Beginner’s mind. There’s a lack of egotism in my self-deprecation. Imagine thinking you are an amazing Buddhist practitioner.
10.6
I’d like to meditate for at least one full hour a day. Problem is, I fall asleep when I attempt any meditation longer than fifteen minutes. From a math standpoint, my meditation practice shakes out like so:
- Seven minute meditation in the morning
- Twelve minute meditation in the evening, followed by an impromptu nap of forty-eight minutes in which I wake up and say, “S–t! Fell asleep again.”
10.5
The most popular route to take as a writer online to grow an audience is to have a strong opinion. I’ve come to the conclusion I’ll never be as popular or as known as anyone doing this. I’m okay with that.
I don’t write to confirm my own views or to change the views of someone else. I write to challenge my views, and that is often what I find taking place in my own work. When I start a piece, typically by the end I have adjusted what ever the strong stance I may have had at the beginning.
10.4
It’s not as good as the original. Is it ever? But there is a Magnum P.I. reboot I didn’t know existed and I am here for it.
10.3
I’ve been re-reading ‘Be Brief and Tell Them Everything’ by Brad Listi. If the world made any sense, it would be on the New York Times bestseller list for 100 weeks and counting. But the world doesn’t make any sense and books like this fall into obscurity. So many hard-hitting passages in this novel. Knowing a bit of Listi’s backstory, I know there’s more truth on the pages than fiction. Everyone should read this book. I really wish Brad still blogged.
10.2
At what point did it become standard to remove the solid white outer line from the road edge? Driving at night, in the rain, on some of the roads in this city is problematic. Feels like a weird design choice to make the road prettier while ignoring user experience and driver safety.
10.1
I swung by the grocery store yesterday to pick up a few essentials (ie pizza) and ended up talking punk rock with a kid half my age who was my cashier. It’s the first time since living here for nearly twenty years anyone has ever used the word TSOL in a sentence to me. I’ll stop here, because this deserves its own essay.
September 2024
09.30
My prayers to any and all who have been affected by Hurricane Helene. We’ve been getting tons of rain here and have been under a constant state of Flood Warning and Flash Flood in Effect notices. But to see what’s taking place in the Carolinas and even southwest Virginia is another level. When Mother Nature wants to have her way, I’m not sure you can ever be prepared enough.
09.29
The difference in weather from Virginia Beach, where we traveled for soccer today, as compared to home couldn’t be any different. The weather was beautiful at the beach. The sun was out and scorching. I even got a sunburn. Back home it’s like stepping into Seattle for a spell: dreary, dark, buckets of rain upon buckets of rain falling from the sky.
09.28
Not feeling the Julius Randle and Donte DiVincenzo (Knicks) trade for Karl-Anthony Towns (Timberwolves). I could be very wrong about how it plays out, but I love Randle’s game and remain skeptical of KAT’s impact regardless of what the numbers say. Plus, you lost another quality player off the bench.
The Knicks losing Hartenstein to OKC this summer created a ripple effect. I’ll revisit this paragraph come April and May. It feels like more a win for the Timberwolves than the Knicks, but then there’s the question of Rudy in the middle come playoff time. I liked what that Knicks squad had been building. The lack of love for Randle is head-scratching to me.
09.27
The river crested yesterday and the soccer fields where my kids practice and play games flooded. It truly is a river running through it now. You’d need a boat to cross the field. My wife showed me photos that were sent via the sports management app from the coach. The fields reside in a flood plain next to the river, so this area is designed to do this in extremely severe weather. Otherworldly to see it in a photo considering how far downhill the river is from the fields. I’m not sure what this means for the future of practice and games for the foreseeable future but the magic eight ball says, “Not good.”
09.26
After fifteen seasons, Derrick Rose, the NBA’s youngest MVP, has retired. Upon seeing this, I tried to put together in my mind the greatest “what-if” players in NBA history. What if their careers hadn’t been derailed by injury? There are certain players I was too young to watch or remember like Bill Walton and Ralph Sampson. Then there are those I do remember—my generation of players—who were once at the height of their powers before a devastating injury or even debilitating chronic pain. My list:
- Grant Hill
- Penny Hardaway
- Yao Ming
- Brandon Roy
- Tracy McGrady
As great as he was, it could be argued even Larry Bird could be added to this list. How much greater could he have been without the back injury he sustained in 1985? He had multiple back surgeries during his playing days and upon retirement, spinal fusion surgery.
Does Magic qualify or was his run already at its end? He was never the same after retiring and returning following his HIV diagnosis.
One could argue T-Mac shouldn’t be included, but you’d fail to understand his injury history if you exclude him. His career was plagued by chronic back injuries. While not as immediately devastating as what happened to Hill, Roy, Hardaway, Rose, or Ming, McGrady was that dude. The question, who is better: T-Mac or Kobe, was very real.
I didn’t include players like Greg Oden or Len Bias because they were unproven on an NBA floor. It’s possible both would have been future Hall of Famers, but projections don’t mean anything in the NBA, even for Top-5 picks, no matter the potential ceiling.
While Rose was never the same following his plethora of career-ending injuries (which didn’t end his career), it’s a testament to how damn amazing he was to come back and still play in the NBA. What he managed was unheard of. Because of all the sacrifices he made and the hard work he put in to make it back to the court, I’d always hoped he’d find his way to a championship contender and nab a ring. It just wasn’t in his cards. Hell of a player, though. Once in a lifetime.
09.25
I don’t live in Seattle. I’ve never been to Seattle. But the Supersonics leaving Seattle and relocating to Oklahoma City goes down as one of the most heartbreaking relocations in American sports history in my opinion. It has nothing to do with Oklahoma City. They seem to be a great fan base. They get to keep the OKC Thunder. But Seattle needs the Sonics. I need the Sonics. The NBA needs the Sonics. It’s one of those teams everyone loved. Is it the green and yellow? When the NBA moves toward expansion, I’m all in for Seattle. Where’s my Reign Man tee?
09.24
I need milk chocolate peanut butter cups from Trader Joe’s in my life.
09.23
“Lazy” is not a word a coach should ever use when talking to his youth players. Not quietly in a huddle or screaming it across the field. It’s a great way to lose your players. A simple flip from a negative to a more neutral or even positive rephrasing can go a long way. Instead of “you’re playing lazy,” try “Let’s play with more energy out there” or “Let’s win the 50/50 balls.” Really anything. “Lazy” is a lazy word to use.
09.22
I love playing basketball. It’s the salve for my soul. More than running, more than writing — it’s basketball. Always has been. But my body rebels against me every time. I hadn’t played pick-up in three years because of it. I played two weeks ago and then again last week and now I’m this close to throwing out my back again. I’m teetering on the edge. The pain in my left hip or pelvic region or whatever it is is something else. It’s quite depressing.
09.21
There’s a camaraderie in pick-up basketball I’ve never found anywhere else in life. We don’t talk about our days, our work, our feelings. None of that. But what we all experience is unspoken. I know I’m not alone in feeling this way.
09.20
The squirrels are having a field day with all the fruit and nuts falling from the trees in my backyard. It’s a war zone out there. You need a helmet when walking around.
09.19
I wrote a story called “Dandelions” back in 2009. I started it when my dad was sick in the hospital with leukemia. He was at UVA then and hadn’t even been transferred to Duke. Two months after he passed away, I revisited the story and “finished” writing it. It’s been sitting on my file drive for more than fifteen years now. I started re-writing it today. It needed tweaks. I think it’s a beautiful story. Definitely plenty of stilted words and sentences in the original. I was fifteen years younger than I am now so that’s expected. Overall, the message is there. It has bones. Some meat. I plan to finish it this week and share it.
09.18
I shared a new short story on my blog. Drop everything you are doing and read it. It’s about a woodpecker and a man and a house. If this story was a movie, it would state at the beginning on a black screen written in white lettering, “Based on true events.” The story itself is fiction — partially. My name is not Hank.
09.17
With the recent temperature drop, we are starting to re-enter ‘Fingerless Gloves’ season. Ah, the joys of having Raynaud’s.
09.16
Why do people gravitate toward bulls—t artists? Pick a topic, any topic, and you will undoubtedly find an influencer or self-appointed expert in the field who has convinced thousands (or millions) they are the shining light. Why do otherwise logical human beings fall for this trickery?
09.15
Instead of Claude Debussy, I switched it up at my kids’ soccer games this weekend. At my daughter’s game, I listened to “Bastards of Young” by The Replacements on repeat. Unfortunately, the song didn’t bring her team luck as they took an L. For my son’s game, I went with “Don’t Want to Know If You Are Lonely” by Husker Du. They captured the win. I may have snuck in “Your Love” by the Outfield for a few possessions.
09.14
And so I continue my impressive run of waking before 4 AM on a Saturday. It’s the weekend. Who wants to sleep in? Why did I wake this time? The usual: my sixteen year old dog Motzie was thirsty and she wasn’t going back to bed until she had her water. If you’re wondering, why not just leave her bowl out, the thing is: I can’t any longer.
Those days have gone bye-bye. A water bowl is now a drowning hazard for her. She will wake to drink water, then fall asleep with her face in the bowl unless it’s moved. Caring for an older dog is a lot like being a parent of an infant or toddler. Their mobility is poor and danger lurks everywhere, even in the simplest of circumstances like two inches of water.
It’s okay though. I did my dog dad duties and, unable to return to sleep, have been writing ever since. I’m cool with that. It’s quiet in the house. Everyone is still snoozing away. But not me. I’m writing. Writers gotta write.
09.13
My mom knows how much I love crows so the other day she called to tell me she had found an injured crow at a park. It appeared to have a broken wing. She enlisted the help of one of her church peers, called the Virginia Wildlife Rescue hotline, and had the bird picked up for rehabilitation. That made my day because my morning started the opposite: a goldfinch I found injured on my back patio passed away about ten minutes after I discovered it. I felt bad for the little fellow. After he succumbed to his injuries, I ended up burying him next to a small tree in my shade garden.
09.12
My lower legs have been tender and sore since playing pick-up basketball on Saturday. My prediction from 09.06 was spot on. Regardless, I decided to go for a run. I thought it might help work out the lingering soreness, especially in my achilles. My intended goal was a mile. That was it. Just a mile. Once I got running, I pushed it to two miles then four miles then five.
There’s a hill I haven’t run in some time I wanted to conquer. Conquer I did. Or more apt: it conquered me. It’s a doozy of an incline. By mile 3, all I wanted to do was be back home drinking something cool and eating a cheese and mustard sandwich. But I pushed through and made it the five miles without stopping. Five miles is the new ten miles for me. It could be my age catching up or the after effects of three COVID occurrences. I don’t know. But my stamina is pretty shot nowadays. My reserve tank is non-existent.
09.11
I first learned about September 11, 2001, at a Taco Bell in Farmville. I was working in construction at the time and none of us on the job site had any idea what was going on until we stopped for lunch. Later that evening, as we were installing gutters on an older lady’s house in Drakes Branch, I stood on a ladder fifteen to twenty feet in the air. I held a gutter against the fascia board as I peered into her window where she had a television going in the living room. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing as I watched the first plane, then the second fly directly into the tower. It was the first visual of that day I had seen. We had only heard the Taco Bell workers talking, then once back on the job site, an audio broadcast from NPR. I remember just wanting to be back home. We were under attack and it felt like only the beginning.
09.10
It’s head scratching how anyone can, in good conscience, vote for that guy. I won’t call him any names like a fear-mongering authoritarian wannabe who has more in common with a cult leader than an actual leader. Nor will I say he is the most divisive politician in the last 50 years of the United States. Or that he is a soulless narcissist and that the modern Republican Party is more interested in winning than upholding basic American values. I won’t say he is the antithesis to everything Jesus taught in the New Testament. No, I won’t do that. Some will. But not me.
09.9
When is the juice no longer worth the squeeze? That’s what I keep thinking when it comes to Medium. It’s possible the stars again realign for me. But right now, I’m disheartened. I shouldn’t tie my confidence to a platform as bipolar as Medium is. But it’s hard not to think you suck as a writer when your reads plummet to almost nothing. Publications, self publishing to my profile, stories, poetry — it doesn’t matter what I push live, what I’m writing is not being shown to hardly anyone. Algorithms are a plague on the Internet.
09.8
I tried a new approach to tuning out maniacal soccer parents at my kids’ games over the weekend: Claude Debussy to the rescue.
09.7
Once or twice a month I look at the traffic coming to this blog. Unlike Medium where I do want to see how many people are reading, here is different. The visitor count isn’t important. It’s the “Referrers” tab that interests me. Is a cool blog linking to my site from theirs? If so, time to check them out.
09.6
On Saturday, I’m going to play pick-up basketball for the first time in over three years. My prediction: my body is going to ache for at least a solid week straight after. But it’s settled. I have submitted my “In” vote on the group basketball e-mail. There’s no going back.
09.5
I created a link round-up but have yet to publish it. Why? Because I ended up writing a damn novel about all the cool links contained within and never finished it. It’s like a rebranded version of my old weekly newsletter I abruptly discontinued years ago. Do better, self. Do better. Finish it.
09.4
The new generation of bloggers gives me hope. Insert Star Wars meme. They’ve shown me the blogging community is alive and well far more than I realized.
09.3
Everyone is trying to make a point. Take a stance. Share their opinion. I miss observational writing and reading. You don’t have to play the game.
09.2
An inspirational poetry chapbook meant to inspire the modern quest for a minimalist home.
09.1
Maniacal Parents at a Soccer Match: A Broadway Show
August 2024
I haven’t forgotten about this page, but I have taken off the month of August. Starting September 1, you’ll see daily updates again. Until then, check out the latest entries in my blog.
July 2024
07.30
I read “Predator or Prey” by Diana Saverin on Longreads today. I’d forgotten about the Longreads site for some reason, then this morning, it popped into my head. It’ll now be on my daily/weekly list of stops. Solid writing all around.
07.29
I get tired of the Internet sometimes. I dream of an analog life like my childhood. That was connection.
07.28
The sprints I did yesterday sent me to bed far earlier than normal. I slept like a baby. I woke to achy thigh muscles. But it’s a good type of soreness. It meant I did something.
07.27
My running routine has been out of sorts this year. To reclaim a little bit of my running spirit, I ran sprints for 15 minutes at a nearby field while my son practiced soccer. It kicked my behind. Maybe not the best idea since I’ve felt under the weather, but cooped up indoors is not my default setting. I need the sun. The sweat. The fresh air.
07.26
I don’t know if I have an ear infection, COVID, or something else, but I’ve felt like absolute garbage the last two days. I feel like I’m this close to my eardrum rupturing. My ear is fluttering and my brain feels like it’s in a vice grip. I await the dreaded whistle and burst.
07.25
Read the following screenplays:
- No Hard Feelings
- Scream (1996)
07.24
Screenplays I’ve read in the past two days:
- A Quiet Place
- The Americans (TV Pilot: Season 01, Episode 01)
- Inglourious Basterds
- Pulp Fiction
- Dusk Till Dawn
I went on a bit of a Tarantino kick there at the end. In thinking back to my youth, I believe I saw Dusk Till Dawn before Pulp Fiction. It was on HBO or Cinemax one night. I was maybe 15, perhaps even still 14. I remember thinking, “What in the world is this movie?” but that it was simultaneously a vampire movie I could get behind.
Since this is getting longer than a typical random thought, I’ll save my words for a longer post alone about Pulp Fiction. Reading a script is such a different experience than simply watching the movie. I know there are funny/quirky scenes in Pulp Fiction on-screen even with what I find a bit over-the-top in terms of violence depicted; but I tell you, reading the actual screenplay had me laughing out loud in some of the most unexpected places. Tarantino is a master storyteller.
07.23
The sheer amount of tick bites on my ankles is maddening. Left ankle especially. Oh, they itch. They itch. Must not dig nails deep into my skin for relief.
07.22
Having a blog means having a home base on the web. It’s your space to play. There are no corporate overlords. There is no one saying, “This is good. We’ll show everyone more of this” or “This is bad. We’ll show less of this.” You are not a product and you are not being sold a product. That’s what the independent web is. I’m happy to be a part of it in my little corner of the Internet I call my own.
07.21
My dog has officially transitioned to the “I hate baths” stage. She’s 16, and while never the easiest dog to bathe, she’s always been a trooper. Today, however: not a trooper.
07.20
Let me tell you about my soft palate, a non-fiction collection and interview series with my mom.
07.19
I haven’t read in a few days. Time to return to my bookmarked screenplays in queue.
07.18
A blonde squirrel is in my backyard.
07.17
My day has not gone as planned. Day Two of battling ticks smaller than a pen dot. I said hundreds yesterday. It may be a thousand. They are nymphs and they are many. And one of the little bastards bit me on the ankle. My poor dog.
07.16
I took my dog for a nice little walk early in the day before the heat index skyrocketed — and at some point on our excursion, she laid down in a massive deer tick nest. Massive. Hundreds upon hundreds of ticks all over her now.
07.15
I like my alone time, but I don’t like being alone.
07.14
I avoid talking politics on my blog as a general rule, but considering Saturday’s events I’ll make an exception.
My wish is for the United States of America to return to civility. To return to the days when politics was viewed as boring (but necessary), and not as another form of entertainment — a nasty reality TV show that runs 24/7 ad nauseam.
Politics has replaced religion as the system of belief of choice. And anyone that has chosen political bias and fervor over something greater than flesh is misguided.
What happened could have been much worse. For the family of the innocent man in the crowd who died, it was worse. It was the worst day of their lives. Others were injured, too. Their lives will never be the same. We must do better as a country.
07.13
I opted for A Quiet Place. Considering there’s no real dialogue, I thought it’d be an interesting script to read. Get Out is on my list for later this week.
07.12
Which screenplay do I read next? I’m not a big fan of horror films, but I repeatedly see Get Out by Jordan Peele recommended. In looking at the WGA site, they list it in the top spot for “101 Greatest Screenplays of the 21st Century.”
07.11
I have succumbed to the pickleball madness. My kids strung up a piece of yarn three feet high and attached one end to a stick in the ground and the other to my car’s door handle. My daughter then drew a chalk outline of a court in our driveway. And today, we played round robin pickleball as a family. Quite fun.
07.10
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is one trippy script to read. I’ve never seen the film in full, and I feel it’s not going to end the way I want (no apologies from me in that I’d like to see a happy ending), but man, this is a hell of a screenplay. Added it to my watchlist and plan to check out Adaptation by the same screenwriter, Charlie Kaufman, in the coming weeks.
07.9
Things I did today:
- My dog had her annual well check this morning plus updated rabies vaccine. She’s of driver’s license age (16). Checkup went great. She enjoyed devouring peanut butter treats while getting her ears cleaned.
- Finished reading the screenplay for Into the Wild by Sean Penn, based on Jon Krakauer’s book of the same name, and the life and death of Chris McCandless aka Alexander Supertramp. I’ve now read the book, watched the movie, and read the screenplay. All superb.
- Finally watched the movie version of Ready Player One. I read the novel by Ernest Cline shortly after it debuted in 2011. Solid film. Had the female lead from Me, Earl, and the Dying Girl.
07.8
A common theme among the bloggers I enjoy reading the most: the focus of their blog is the words. It’s, what some may call, text-heavy. Text-heavy is used as a negative (usually). But I like text-heavy. I don’t want to see tons of thumbnails and featured images at every turn.
07.7
I’ve never shared publicly a full length essay on when I made the decision to quit alcohol. But I quit drinking three years ago around this time. I don’t know the exact date. It may have been the end of June. When you say you quit drinking, people assume you must have been an alcoholic. I wasn’t. But I also didn’t want to become one eventually.
07.6
I finished reading the screenplay for Burn After Reading. I now need to re-watch the movie. It’s one of my favorite films and I may love it more after having read the script.
07.5
I’ll never be as a chill as Gil Fronsdale. It doesn’t seem an inherent part of my nature to be this calm. But I do ask myself occasionally: is it possible to fundamentally change the person you are by will alone? Can it be done?
07.4
I’m not a fan of fireworks. It has everything to do with birds. July 4 has to be a terrifying night for them, especially the fledglings. When I hear the fireworks pop off when the sun goes down, I think of the birds huddled in the trees waiting for it all to end. My mind goes here every year. I feel the squirrels can empathize.
07.3
Boost or bust is kinda BS. Medium needs a chat with the Buddha to find a Middle Way. Has anyone written this article yet? I think I may.
07.2
My bad Suarez. I jinxed you. You had a 1.83 ERA coming into the Marlins game. I said, “We’re about to see a pitching clinic tonight.” Then you and the Phillies (and all the field errors) gave up six runs. Now your ERA is 2.27. At least that’s a more realistic ERA than 1.83 which is ridiculous at that many starts.
07.1
I like drinking green tea with half and half an hour or so before bed. Sometimes while I am in bed. I’ve always felt it helps me sleep better and wake up rested. It would seem contradictory since green tea contains caffeine. Caffeine, of course, makes you alert.
But not all caffeine is like coffee, chocolate, or that which is found in soft drinks. Because green tea contains L-theanine, the effects of its caffeine is different because of how the two interact. L-theanine promotes calmness and clarity. Unlike coffee, chocolate, or a Coca-Cola late in the day, I never get the jitters when drinking it. Instead, I feel peaceful.
One thing I never do is drink green tea early in the morning, especially on an empty stomach. It makes me nauseous as all get out. My start time for green tea is noon or after. Usually it’s later in the day around 5 or 6 PM.
June 2024
06.30
Don’t sleep on screenplays as reading material.
06.29
Every other hit is a homer in this Orioles vs Rangers match-up. Kimbrel in. His pre-pitch ritual is something. Might try this at my annual eye exam just to wig out my optometrist.
06.28
Is it always a teenager that’s possessed in the Exorcist movies? If so, makes sense. Makes total sense.
06.27
Practicing soccer with my son is time well spent. Not because I’m a skilled soccer player. I’m not. I played once in PE class in seventh grade. The sport simply didn’t exist where I grew up. It’s time well spent because my son loves the game and I get to spend time with him.
06.26
I had this wild idea I would read while relaxing at the pool, so I brought along my copy of The Dude and the Zen Master. Instead I listened to a woman in her 70s loudly document her entire medical history as well as her family’s. The reason I know she was in her 70s is because she reminded her company repeatedly “I’m in my 70s now.”
She didn’t come up for air. Non-stop chattering. I couldn’t think straight. At one point, she said, “We’ve had a lot of accidental deaths in our family.”
Red flag. Red flag.
Then later: “I was planning to read my book a little while I was here.”
Oh, you were? Me, too. But I can’t think straight because you won’t stop talking. Is that a koan of any sort considering I was planning to read a Buddhism book called The Dude and the Zen Master?
Was it a test of my patience? I think I failed. Yes. Yes, I did.
06.25
I’m a certified nature nerd, I’ll admit. But something I’d like to see more personal blogs do these days is incorporate nature into their writing. Not every post. Not even every other post. But something, sometimes. Writing about technology, Mastodon, AI, pop culture et cetera is so human-centric.
There’s a big, beautiful world out there that human beings overlook constantly. Have you never seen a hawk or a squirrel or come across an interesting insect? How about a tree or a flower, a river or a mountain? Please write about it. I want to read it.
06.24
A song sparrow ran along the ground with its wings spread as if in a territorial pose straight toward a young squirrel digging for cached nuts in my front yard. The squirrel then gave chase back, but in a playful way. One of the more hilarious things I’ve seen in some time.
06.14
If one of my kids passes gas audibly in my vicinity and I have my computer nearby, I immediately begin to play this tuba video while tears stream down my face. Why you ask? Because I am a man-child. Regardless of how many birthdays I have, I will remain, at heart, as immature as I was when I was 12.
06.13
The Internet wins again: an orphaned crow that grew up with chickens as neighbors.
06.12
Jerry West has passed. RIP Logo.
06.11
Sometimes the algorithm gets it right: Kenny Rogers fakes out Michael Jordan. MJ takes it personally. The only thing this video lacks, and I understand for copyright reasons, is “The Gambler” playing as background music. The segue was right there.
06.10
Woke up with the Wu-Tang song “Bring Da Ruckus” on loop playing in my head. Not mad about it.
06.9
It’s not to say it’s impossible. Giannis and the Milwaukee Bucks pulled off the feat in 2021. Cleveland in 2016. The Heat in 2006. Trailblazers in 1977. The Celtics in 1969. But coming back from 2-0 in the NBA Finals is tough. Luka is putting up big numbers but is about as hobbled as they come. Kyrie is not playing Kyrie-like. Uncharacteristic turnovers. Dallas’ role players are missing wide open threes and keep getting pulled into switches on defense. Stop switching!
Boston matches up well with Dallas. They have a deeper team and everyone knows their role. The Jrue Holiday acquisition in the offseason was big. So was Porzingis. I love watching Jrue Holiday play. He takes the toughest defensive assignment night in and night out. What he does isn’t often reflected in the stat sheet: wearing out the offensive player, deflections, tips, boxing out while his teammate gets the rebound, hockey assists.
You have to love his game though. Have to. He’s always in the right place at the right time. That showed in the stat sheet last night. But watch Holiday any game. He’s walking duct tape covering up your team’s deficiencies and holes. I’d like to see Dallas win, but it’s not looking good. They are being overwhelmed.
06.8
I’m sitting on my back patio typing this. It’s nice and shady back here. My dog is at my feet. The fan is on to keep mosquitoes away. As I wrote this last line, a tree nut dropped onto my dog’s bed. It didn’t hit her but spooked her awake momentarily. There’s a juvenile squirrel fifteen feet away from me. Gizmo the Blue Jay has swooped in to survey the ground beneath the feeder.
I’m not sure how I came across this blog but I enjoyed her essay: (I Am) The Unknown Reader. I wonder how many unknown readers are reading this line now. How many will click the link I provided in my last sentence and now find the blog I referenced. The song sparrows are now dancing their Irish jig in search of food. A tufted titmouse has secured a pumpkin seed and is pecking away as it holds the seed in place. A mourning dove hoo-hoo-hoos away in the trees.
I keep a website because I like to write. I enjoy sharing my words. It’s what drew me to the Internet in the mid-90s: reading other people’s stories and thoughts. I also keep a website because I like tinkering. Fiddling. I like the option to customize the look and feel of a website on a whim. It’s why I could never go all-in on websites like Substack or Medium.
I no longer hand code my site in its entirety. Not even close. I gave that up years ago when I moved to WordPress. I miss this process sometimes, but not all the time. I do still enjoy tinkering and WordPress is flexible enough for my needs. It’s why this site’s look and feel changes more than your average site. I get bored and change things. Then sometimes I change them back.
Rinse. Repeat.
06.7
I sat down to write 2-3 sentences on a spider in my bathroom and those handful of words have now taken on a life of its own. Thanks a lot brain upstairs. It’ll now be a full length essay on my blog in a few days time along with a separate essay about a Blue Jay named Gizmo.
I’m terrible at these short, sweet pieces I had planned to fill this page with. The positive is it gets my creative juices flowing. And so it goes: my prolific ability to write about topics few people give two cents about — or have they yet to discover me? Ha.
On a different note, and one I shake my own head at, is I am going to remove the roman numerals from the top of each day and instead go with an abbreviated MM/D(D). I’m not opposed to roman numerals, but in reading Practical Typography’s “Hierarchical Headings,” I’ve reconsidered my approach. What I’m doing is a different concept than what Matthew Butterick references. For example, I’m not using roman numerals on this page in a hierarchical way such as in an outline or essay format. I’m denoting days of the month. But I feel MM/D(D) is clearer. I do plan to continue using the occasional roman numeral in essays. It’s, as I mentioned the other day, a visual thing for me. A way to break up a thought.
My justification for this is that it’s my website and I reserve the right to play around and experiment with it any way I choose.
06.6
I removed the day/time from my random thoughts entries and my wife told me she didn’t like this approach. The day/time format was how she determined what was the latest entry. A happy medium I am introducing is roman numerals for each day of the month. Hence, today is VI because it’s June 6. The only issue I see with this is when I get to twenty or thirty. Will the multiple Xs flag my site inadvertently for folks running restrictions? I laugh. But as sensitive as restrictions can be, it’s a possibility.
I’m not a fan of social sharing buttons on my blog. I’ve removed them in the past. The research is clear. They are ignored more than utilized by over 99% of your readers. That’s a documented statistic and not an arbitrary number I tossed out there. The actual figure: 99.8%.
Here’s the thing: a small handful of my readers do use those sharing buttons. I’ve asked them directly. And the ones who use them generate on average 250+ referrals on one post because of it. As a consequence, despite my strong dislike for social sharing buttons, they will remain active on my site.
06.5
My daughter’s gerbil passed away this morning. It’s got me in my feels big time. That little critter always brightened my day and has played an important role in my daughter’s life the last few years. Pets are never just pets.
I’ve been enjoying Manuel Moreale‘s blog. I came across it via a recommendation from Mike Grindle on his site. There you have it: two writers on the web worth checking out if you are unfamiliar with their work.
I did a re-design of my website’s homepage. It’s inching closer to an ideal I’m going for. It’s not there yet, but it’s getting closer. One thing I will be changing is the gigantic picture of my head at the bottom. Although I cringe a smidge at having a photo of myself on my website, I do think it’s a nice feature to include: face with a name sort of thing i.e. who’s the guy behind the words you are reading.
I’m no longer including the day and time on my random thoughts page. I may do MM/YYYY to start each month, but that’s it. I find the day/time above every entry to be a visual obstruction. Not to mention, when I have a random thought in my head, I’m not stamping a day/time on each one before thinking it. I’d like this page to reflect more how a random thought operates inside my noggin.
06.4
Nailed it! This goes for Medium and Substack, too.
My ideal blog design — and one I fail at repeatedly — is super clean and simple. I bounce back and forth between a text-dominant website and one with header images. My preference is the former. A blog that looks and feels like a book more than it does a blog. I am still finding my way.
06.3
I don’t know the best or least intrusive way to ask my readers to support my writing with a small contribution, but the way I do it now (at the end of each post) is not my preference. Writing is how I pay my bills. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a small contribution each month, considering how many stories I pump out monthly on my blog. It takes time to write these stories. What’s the best way to do this? I don’t know.
I try to avoid taking ibuprofen as much as possible. Today is not that day.
Daddy Threw Out His Back Again: An Epic
06.2
Played the “War, What Is It Good For?” song while driving my kids to school this morning. I may need to find my paisley headband here soon.
It’s a shame America is not a more bike-friendly nation. Where I live is considered by some to be bike-friendly. This depends entirely on where you decide to ride your bike, because as someone who has ridden their bike in this city, I’ll tell you one thing: there are for sure some drivers on the road who wouldn’t think twice about running you off the road. Can be rather terrifying.
06.1
It’s Saturday, so of course I failed to sleep in.
May 2024
05.31
When you watch Luka Doncic play, you are witnessing greatness in real time. Luka in the NBA Finals is gonna be a show. Boy Wonder is a destroyer of worlds.
05.30
I’m listening to the audiobook version of Rick Rubin’s The Creative Act: A Way of Being. Rubin narrates himself. Although it hasn’t been outright said thus far in the book, it’s clear he is a practicing Buddhist.
05.29
One of the epiphanies I’ve had while documenting my random thoughts is that I am a prolific compiler of topics I don’t think many people give a s—t about. For example, earlier in the day I was going to add a random thought about the name I had given to a Blue Jay that frequents my feeder. He comes here every spring and sets up a nest behind my backyard.
What happened, however, as I was writing this out was that it turned into what is now a 1,000-plus word essay on Blue Jays and the connection between the name I bestowed upon said Blue Jay and a dog I once had when I was in tenth grade in high school. Coincidentally, the name of this dog I once had for a short period in my life is also the name of the dog my grandpa later had. He named his dog what he did because he had made a dog house for my dog with this name who had disappeared one night.
And that’s what happens to me when I sit down to write a few words on a topic. I don’t write a few words. I write 1,000 words. But even the 1,000 words isn’t enough, so I write 1,000 more. And then I never get to adding a 1-2 sentence random thought because now it’s like condensing it down to an elevator pitch for this lengthy essay I just drafted.
Which is to say that my random thoughts page has turned into what it was meant to be, which is more a scratchpad than anything. Not a bad thing necessarily. It would be more ideal, obviously, if I wrote about topics other people cared about, but that’s not my life. I like things that I guess, if I’m being honest with myself, most people don’t care about. Maybe they do. I really have no idea.
Do you care about Blue Jays or spilled coffee?
05.28
I’ve long used my iPhone in grayscale mode. I am now using grayscale on my laptop. Severely underrated hack for minimizing distractions and the urge to aimlessly surf the web.
05.27
Our family movie for the night: The Delta Force, starring Chuck Norris and Lee Marvin.
05.26
I finally have a barbell to lift. Kinda. It’s a thick limb from a tree that is the perfect length and weight. I feel this is what Paul Bunyan would’ve done.
05.25
My kids are no fun. I tried convincing them to go with me to a nearby basketball court to play 3-on-3 pick-up. We’d walk up and say, “We got next,” then proceed to shoot jump shots in perfect form, only backwards, as if backwards is the correct way. We’d do this with a completely straight look on our faces.
They said no.
So, now I am out here all by myself in the driveway shooting backwards jump shots. I want to make it clear here I am not talking about backwards granny shots or simply throwing the ball backwards over your head. I’m talking correct form. Everything in order. Only backwards.
05.24
The state of my mood typically comes down to one thing: did I write today?
The original Road House with Patrick Swayze and Sam Elliott is a cinematic masterpiece. Convince me otherwise. The remake with Jake Gyllenhaal appears to be an intentional/unintentional comedy of errors. It may go down in movie history as one of the single worst films I’ve ever watched — and I love a good bad movie. But this is not a movie so bad it’s good. It’s a movie so bad, it’s just bad.
05.23
As I drove down the residential area behind my son’s school, a chipmunk darted across the road. Tucked in his cheek was a nut (or perhaps multiple) half the size of its head. To my knowledge, there aren’t any chipmunks in my neighborhood. Perhaps there are some deeper in the woods I can only assume. So whenever I have the chance to catch a glimpse of a chipmunk, it makes my day. They are the some of the cutest little creatures on this planet.
05.22
Overheard while on a run today: “You are not allowed to go down to the creek by yourself just because you want.”
When I turned around, a woman was walking a dog on a leash and said, “I was talking to the dog.”
Apparently the dog, a golden retriever, had escaped from the yard and decided to venture off on her own to a nearby trail.
Yesterday marked fifteen years since my dad passed. I like to remember all the other days he was alive and not the day he died. I will always think of May 21 as my dog’s birthday and not the day my dad died.
05.21
Motzie turned 16 today. She was born May 21, 2008. Seems like yesterday when we drove down to Danville and picked her out. She was the only girl. She barely looked up at us. Too busy battling her big brothers trying to nurse.
05.20
Mourning doves are not as peaceful as you think — not with each other. The dominant (fe)male does what I refer to as a bullrush. Head down. Charge. It’s entertaining. I get after them sometimes though. The dove being chased looks sad when this happens.
05.19
My daughter’s team won their semi-final soccer match that went to penalty kicks. Super physical match against an elite North Carolina club. The winner went to the championship game. They then beat a team from Johnson City, Tennessee, in the championship 1-0. Our goalie was amazing all tournament long. I also like to think Ahmad’s blessings had something to do with it.
As my daughter and I walked to a coffee shop in Downtown Greensboro, a homeless man asked me if I could buy him some food. His name was Ahmad. At first, I thought he said Omar. Then he said, “No, Ahmad,” and I responded, “Like Ahmad Rashad from Inside the NBA” and he laughed. He asked where I was from and I told him Charlottesville. He said he was from Boston, Massachusetts, and asked if I’d ever been up that way. I said I’d never been that far north. As I shook his hand, he told me good things were coming our way and wished my daughter and I well.
05.18
Greensboro Playlist includes Goldfinger, Joey Ramone’s cover of “What a Wonderful World,” “Disintegration Anxiety” by Explosions in the Sky, and Patrick Swayze’s “She’s Like the Wind” et al.
05.17
There’s a squirrel in my backyard, who I nicknamed Little Girl, that lights up when she sees me. No matter where she is in the yard, she runs down toward me. She has the cutest look on her face. Is it because she wants to eat my brain?
I’m working on a screenplay re-make of World War Z starring Brad Pitt, but instead of zombies, we get brain-eating squirrels. Updated title: World War Sciuridae.
If I were the casting director, our all-star ensemble would consist of: Scrat (Ice Age), Woody Harrelson, John Malkovich, Wendell Pierce (“Bunk” from The Wire), and Jennifer Lawrence. Our Greenland would not be in Greenland at all, but New Zealand where squirrels do not reside.
Steve Buscemi would be in the movie, too, because Steve Buscemi is in every Hollywood movie ever made.
05.16
When I was a child, my friends and I walked down the side road next to Phenix Elementary School one afternoon. From there, we entered the row of trees between the road and the school. I was six or seven years old. We came upon a dead cardinal laying on the forest floor. I rushed home and told my parents someone had killed the state bird of Virginia and that we needed to report it to the police immediately. It never dawned on me the bird could have been attacked by a hawk or died of natural causes. My parents did not report the death of the cardinal. Therefore, no suspect was apprehended. I was reminded of this while on a walk with my wife yesterday where red feathers were scattered alongside the trail, presumably from a hawk attack. I’ll never forget you little cardinal from my childhood.
Rabies in squirrels is extremely rare and there has never been a documented case of a squirrel spreading rabies to a human. But imagine if they were a more suitable host. We’d all be screwed. Imagine a rabid squirrel chasing you around in the backyard like they do other squirrels when fighting over a food source. Pandemonium.
05.15
There are two kinds of people in the world:
- Those who fold their pizza in the middle of the crust and eat it like a sandwich, and
- Those who don’t fold their pizza but choose to eat their pizza with their top teeth touching the cheese first followed by their bottom teeth on the crust
I don’t trust the latter.
Which brings me to another question: is my wife a folder of pizza or a top teeth on the cheese eater of pizza? The fate of our love may be at stake here.
I imagine the squirrels in my backyard think the bird feeder is not a bird feeder, but a squirrel feeder instead. And when they see a bird fly over, they say to their squirrel pals, “Quick! To the feeder. We must not let these pests conquer our food supply.”
Dogs Spinning Around In Circles Before They Lay Down: A Poetry Anthology
05.14
Where Did the Opossum Go: A Children’s Story.
I’m eating a breakfast muffin while my dog snoozes away in the kitchen listening to Buddhist monks practicing their morning chant on Spotify. Outside an opossum licks dew from a hosta by my workshop while a trio of squirrels lose their collective mind that an opossum is in the backyard. Their backyard.
05.13
In an effort to get my dog settled for the night, I placed a small speaker in the room with her. She tends to get restless at bedtime in her older age. I made a playlist years ago of Buddhist monks chanting on Spotify. My dog is currently listening to Evening Chant and sawing logs.
About a month ago, I trimmed my facial hair down to the shortest it’s been in ten years. At first, I liked it and thought I’d keep it this way. I had stubble and a slight stache, but no real beard — not like I’ve had the past decade. I looked, in ways, like a presentable human being. A gentleman, dare I say. Less the fuzzy rascal of my mid-30s and beyond.
However, as my facial hair has begun to grow back in full, I realized the beard is a-callin’ my name and I must heed its call. The sun is shining overhead and there’s no better protection of one’s skin than the hair on one’s face. Not to mention, if you’ve ever grown a full beard, an especially long one at that, it’s hard not to return. It’s like reaching the peak of a mountain and looking down on the valley below. You’re never the same. Cranking up your car and returning to civilization holds less appeal.
IT’S A VISUAL THING FOR ME, but I like essays that start with the first handful of words capitalized. Small caps with a touch of spacing. This technique is mostly absent from the web from a design standpoint, but still common in print — magazine stories in particular. Anyone else like this? It’s a lead-in. A typographical beauty in my eyes.
05.12
It’s Mother’s Day and I have a feeling a lot of pizza is being ordered today. Dads be like, “I got dinner tonight, babe.”
05.11
I have a magical ability to wake at 4 AM on the weekends. It’s like a gift — only it’s not a gift I want. I’d really like to sleep until 7 AM for a change.
05.10
Dear pollen, please ease up. Yours truly, my goopy left eye.
05.9
I just published a story about a friend taking a s—t. I may lose subscribers, but I feel it was worth the risk. A timeless classic in my estimation.
I wrote it while sitting in my car waiting for my daughter’s soccer practice to end. I was laughing the whole time I typed away on my phone. Other parents occasionally peered over at me because my laughter could not be contained within my four door sedan.
Find humor in the absurd. I have this written on the marker board in our kitchen. It’s my life’s motto. It’s how I make it through each day.
I have a hard time being serious. It’s terrible for my mental health.
My worst fear come true. Last night, in an effort to find my focus, I put on my Bose noise-cancelling headphones. Call it paranoia, but I always blow inside my headphones before putting them on just in case a spider or another insect has made its way into the cupped headphone piece. You never know.
A few seconds later, I felt a tickle in my ear. I yanked off the headphones and inside was an earwig crawling around.
It took a few minutes to get the earwig out. It simply wouldn’t drop onto the floor. Kept hiding away and hanging on for dear life. I had to use a plastic spoon to fish it out.
After releasing the earwig outside, I walked upstairs, grabbed a Q-tip, and doused the end with rubbing alcohol then thoroughly cleaned my ear where the earwig had tickled in the event the earwig dropped some eggs off in leaving.
Doubtful, but I’ve been down the YouTube rabbit hole.
I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to enjoy my headphones again. I’m also wondering how long the earwig had been there. I fell asleep with my headphones on the night before.
Please, no.
05.8
Back to the “Jason” subject. I once ate lunch on Friday the 13th with a screenwriter who wrote one of the Friday the 13th movies back in the 1980s. He was a contributing writer, as was I, at The Nervous Breakdown (TNB), an arts and culture magazine that has since gone defunct.
Coincidentally, this writer, Daryl Haney, who I knew as “Duke” and “D.R.” and not as “Daryl,” (he didn’t use Daryl as his pen name on TNB) grew up in Charlottesville where I lived at the time and still do. I had written a piece about my imaginary friend named Jason for TNB and he had commented, “I once had a Jason character in my life.” No one then, at TNB, realized he was Daryl Haney from Friday the 13th: The New Blood (Paramount Pictures).
He had returned home from Los Angeles to visit family where we met up at a local grill to shoot the s—t. While in conversation, I realized his niece was in my daughter’s pre-school and ballet class. I also realized the current day we were sitting there eating lunch was indeed Friday the 13th.
Small world.
Lots of Jasons.
I walked out onto my back patio this morning to check on my dog and my crow friend, Mr. Jones, was going apes—t as was my squirrel friend, Little Girl. An opossum was standing on the fence rail.
His name was Jason. Denim short guy from high school. He had the same last name as another Jason at Randolph-Henry at the time. Same grade I believe. Rhymed with “Huffy,” as in the bike.
Coincidentally, my imaginary friend’s name when I was growing up was Jason. A very popular name in the 1980s.
05.7
A red Arkansas Razorbacks crewneck sweatshirt and well worn denim jeans that smelled like he’d wallowed in a deer carcass. He’d leave them hanging over the edge of the wicker laundry basket in the bathroom. I remember him this way, too.
It’s not a derogatory way to think of my dad. The smell was on purpose. He was a hunter.
I’m fairly certain he either rubbed his clothes on a deer carcass or sprayed deer spray on his clothing to help attract the deer. It was an overpowering aroma of which my mom would get after my dad for even placing his soiled hunting clothes near the rest of the laundry: dirty or clean made no difference.
The single largest opossum I have ever seen in my life ventured over from my neighbor’s yard into mine just as we were gearing up to leave for school this morning. As someone who grew up in the sticks, I’ve seen my fair share of opossums and this one takes the cake.
I tried to shoo it from our yard but she paid me no mind and went straight for the drain pipe. My son Henry saw it first. Absolutely monstrous. I’m assuming pregnant or an alpha male of some sort. If the former, perhaps it had some little baby opossums in her pouch underneath.
For the record, I have nothing against denim shorts. There’s a nostalgic element to denim shorts for me. My dad wore denim shorts. They were entirely too short and his wallet hung lower than the bottom seam. They weren’t overly tight though. This is how I remember my dad. Denim shorts, an Old Well baseball cap, and a long sleeve baseball tee. You know the kind. Blue sleeves with a white front.
05.6
I don’t understand skinny jeans for men. I really don’t. Why is this a thing? When I was in high school, there was this guy two years ahead of us — I’m blanking on his name now — who wore what we referred to as “nut huggers.” And they were shorts. Denim shorts. It looked to be a painful choice of attire.
I finally fixed our refrigerator. No more weighted slam ball keeping the door shut. Hallelujah!
It’s like tweeting, but without the death threats.
05.5
The worm-like strings of pollen from oak trees you see all over the place right now are like “flying…” What’s the word? Ah, I can’t say it on my blog. Otherwise, it’ll get flagged for something inappropriate. I think you can figure it out. It rhymes with “genus” but said as if it were plural. Of the vulgar nature: “ticks.” The technical name is “catkin” or “ament.” They are part of the reproductive system of the oak tree. They are the male flower parts — and they are everywhere.
05.4
Last night as I lay in bed, I watched a house centipede and spider cross paths at the base of the wall. They both seemed to think of the other, “Not trying this guy.” Then I fell asleep and dreamed of house centipedes and spiders.
Forget everything I said earlier about switching to ‘Atkinson Hyperlegible’ and ‘Lexend.’ I think I’m set on ‘Spectral’ for body and reverting to ‘Inter’ for headings. Spectral is a clean font and looks nice on my laptop. There was too much of a playfulness about the Lexend font. I couldn’t bring myself to keep it for long-form essays. It has its place, but my site doesn’t appear to be a good fit.
May the Fourth be with you. Sorry, I couldn’t resist.
While at my kids’ soccer games in Virginia Beach last weekend, we parked behind an SUV with a satirical political bumper sticker that read:
GIANT METEOR 2024
Just end it already
That about nails it.
05.3
Allison texted me yesterday while we both sat in our respective school car pick-up lines and said, “Make me laugh. Say something funny.”
I texted back: “Birds can’t fart, but imagine if they could and we could hear them.”
The New York Knicks being relevant again is great for the NBA. Sure, Knicks fans can be a delusional bunch at times, but it’s because they love their team. Jalen Brunson is that dude. Supporting players like Hart, Anunoby, Hartenstein, DiVincenzo et al know their roles and excel in them.
I only wish Julius Randle was still suited up. He’s out for the season after undergoing surgery for a dislocated right shoulder earlier in the year. I love watching Randle play. He’s like a 90s throwback: physical, throwing his body into his defender. Hence, unfortunately, the dislocated shoulder.
05.2
I’m a huge typography nerd. You have no idea. Recently I came across a more accessible font (“Atkinson Hyperlegible”) created in collaboration with the Braille Institute. It was designed with low vision readers in mind. I tested it out on the site as the body font briefly but opted for Lexend instead. I went with Atkinson Hyperlegible for the Headings.
Lexend was designed to aide reading comprehension for those with dyslexia. I feel the latter is easier on the eyes as it relates to body text for long-form reading, which is what this site is mostly. It’s possible you are seeing both now so long as my cache has cleared.
05.1
I’m going to fix this broken dresser drawer once and for all and it won’t be in vain.