Category Archives: Michigan
Local journalism can disappear without so much as a cry these days, and typically with only halfhearted protestation by the community.
Most people say that I shouldn’t let anything hold me back from doing great things. But I don’t have much desire to do great things. What are great things without the small things?
It was classy enough to rise above the dive bar ranks, but not so swanky that you couldn’t waltz in there with sweatpants and flip-flops.
My mom’s bread pudding is tried and true comfort food: warm, spongy mush flecked with cinnamon and sprinkled with raisins.
And for twenty-five minutes I am warm and more alive
than the seven hours and thirty-five minutes between walls and cabinets three floors above.
The light pooled on the horizon, stretching like taffy, growing and receding. When it faded away in one direction, we looked behind us to see it growing in another corner of the sky. It seemed to breathe.
Throughout the performance, I can understand eighty percent of what he says and forty percent of what he sings because, well … because of his teeth.
The Pine required constant vigilance and dexterity; every second taken to observe bald eagles or apply sunscreen came with a price: frantic paddling and overcorrection.
This week, I decided to spend a day allowing society (a.k.a. the internet) to tell me exactly how I should be a man. For one day I would dress, drink, and spend my time how the cyber arbiters of masculinity determined.