A Love Letter to Chimes
Local journalism can disappear without so much as a cry these days, and typically with only halfhearted protestation by the community.
Leaving Home in Search of Home
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?
Goodbye, Goose
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.
Communion Crusts and Tea Sandwiches
My mom’s bread pudding is tried and true comfort food: warm, spongy mush flecked with cinnamon and sprinkled with raisins.
The Institute (of Arts)
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.
Works of Light
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.
Five Campsites That Were NOT Insta-Worthy
In the middle of a freezing rain, we reached Dick’s Dome, a geodesic dome built to sleep four persons. There were eighteen people there.
‘Dracula, the Musical?’ (A Review)
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.
I Took a Cedar-Strip Canoe Down the Most Dangerous River in Michigan
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.
I’ll Make a Man Out of Me
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.
