Everyone has an instrument that escalates music for them. Upbeat people have the horns. Ragers have the guitar. George W. Bush has the drums. Hopeless romantics have the violin. Whatever
I guess it’s time for me to write something about “politics,” which is neither something I am qualified to write about nor something I ever desired to write about nor
Way back when, in a land called February, I took a trip down to Mexico. I’m a mixed bag when I get on a plane – I might be productive,
On a flight down to Austin, Massachusetts, this past Friday, I had the pleasure of having a screen in my face the entire flight, courtesy of JetBlue. Since I’m a
Assuming my body allows me (the road to recovery after a Sunday wedding can be a long one) and the show doesn’t sell out before I hit “publish,” I’ll be
Most of the time, when you’re making a fool of yourself on purpose, it’s just to make other people happy. Their happiness brings you happiness. You may be costing yourself
“Frenetically,” he repeated to us, the word bowling over the classroom and sending each one of us into a stun. I had never encountered a teacher with so much command.
It’s weird to stop and think about some of the great things I went through most of life without knowing: the taste of pesto, the sting of whiskey, the sound