I’m taking the long way home again. I need a few more minutes — enough to get through The Cars’ Just What I Needed and, inexplicably, Laid by James. “You’re driving me crazy … when are you coming home?”
We’re running out of time. Just a couple of months left and we have so many chapters left to cover.
I’m seven months pregnant and I’m not craving pickles or ice cream (although both sound delicious). Instead, I’m craving music.
Like the songs we played on repeat in middle school: Green Day’s Welcome to Paradise, The Offspring’s Come Out and Play.
The songs I listened to in high school while driving alone on small town, star-filled nights with a CD-to-cassette adapter stuck in my ancient car radio. REM’s Crush With Eyeliner. The Breeders’ Cannonball. Veruca Salt’s Seether. Continue reading “2nd Trimester Playlist”
Back home in LA, I find a penny on the sidewalk every week. One week, I found $30 on the street on Thursday and another $20 on Sunday. But usually, it’s just pennies.
My wife loves coins. Why? Who knows. But I live to make her smile, so when I find change on the street when we’re together I hand it over. What I find when I’m alone, I save in a jar.
I’ve been in San Francisco for work since Sunday and it struck me as remarkable that there were like no loose coins on the sidewalks. My eyes were peeled as I walked to work and then back to my hotel,on Monday, but no dice. Continue reading “The Penny Standard”
Page two of Martha Stewart Living is always “Martha’s Month”–a day-by-day window into the life of The Great Martha. She weight trains on Mondays and Fridays. Thursdays is cardio and core. Yoga? Tuesdays. She celebrates birthdays, crafts with her grandchildren, mulches her verdant acres, and polishes her silver. This month, I decided to live like Martha. Sort of.
Martha: Have chimneys cleaned.
Me: I looked at the bricked-up fireplace in our living room and wondered, once again, “is it bricked up because the landlord doesn’t want anyone to use it, or because there are dead things hidden in there.” Either way, it’s nice to have a place to hang stockings. Continue reading “My Martha’s Month – Part 1”
Public transportation is an incubator for observations and revelations. At least it is for me.
This morning on the train, I listened to Malcolm Gladwell’s latest Revisionist History podcast, the third in his series on higher education. Suddenly, I was able to articulate my passion for public school, using language I hadn’t had before. Thanks, Revisionist History. Continue reading “My Kingdom for a Public School”
Last night my wife and I were talking about HBO’s Looking, a show I always enjoyed and will miss just a bit. I liked the characters, and their dilemmas led me to wonder what decisions they would make and how they would live with them. In one episode, two of the main characters–a man and a woman who grew up together and then escaped to the city together–return to their hometown to confront old ghosts and presumptions about who they might have become had they stayed. What did it mean that they left? Were they better people, or just different? That especially resonated with me, because it’s a conversation I have with myself every time I go “home.”
Anyway. I dug the show, which is really saying something considering it was set in San Francisco, a city to which I have a near-pathological aversion.
My wife and I were both aware that Looking was a polarizing show within the gay (male) community, but a tweet by my friend and astute cultural watcher Price Peterson made me want to find out why that had been the case. Continue reading “What Are We Looking For?”