The following is a given memory and it goes like this: My brother Geoff and I were at a bar in Chicago waiting to listen to The Abstract Giants to perform. Back then, what was great about these smaller venues, was we got to witness the making of the band. We got to watch them figure out their voice; their… View Post

If you read yesterday’s chapter, then you know about the “Batter Up” game, which is a game I do not endorse – at all – but admit would’ve been thrilled to know about (and try) when I was 15 or 16. This chapter is my favorite so far. It is awkward and painful and sad. It’s sweet, too. I wanted… View Post

I once knew a boy who adored Hank Aaron. I grew up in the 80s and 90s, and I’m not about to argue about anything regarding sports, but this boy’s admiration was intriguing given the fact that Aaron wasn’t playing baseball anymore. Most people were talking about Frank Thomas or Sammy Sosa (at least, if you were growing up where… View Post

Jesse and I are in line at IKEA waiting to pay for two chairs and some plaid pillows, a few extra dishes to replace the ones that’ve chipped, and I am reading Henry VI Part 2 out loud to him. “OK, so there are three guys in this scene: Saye, Cade, and Dick.” I pause, and look around to see… View Post

I woke up Thursday, January 21, 2021 determined to live Amanda Gorman’s “The Hill We Climb” poem. I was going to be brave enough to see and be light. I was on the look out for the emergence of the battered and the beautiful – both in myself and in others. I promised to think about what just redemption was… View Post