Requiem for a Bartender
Steve ran the joint. Tending bar was the family business. His father, Tom, ran it the generation before mine. Steve and I became fast friends. That’s the bartender’s job, after all—to befriend their loyal patrons. But I was also young, boiling over with energy, and thirsty to learn the ways of drinking legally in public. Steve gave me, gave so many of us that arena.
Why Worry When You can Sail or do Whatever Makes You Happy
And I realize that not everyone is as fortunate or privileged as I am. Not everyone has a Boat Rich daddy. But everyone should find the thing that gives them the kind of calm joy sailing gives me. It doesn’t matter what it is.
The Opening Campfire: An (alternative) Introduction to "A Camp Story" – Author's Cut
My biggest concern, beyond not knowing anyone and just generally hating camp, was that I was going to spend a summer in the woods surrounded by swarms of big, disgusting, loud cicadas. It was 1990 and the 17-year cicadas had taken over Chicago. I had killed so many with such bloodlust that I convinced myself the winged beasts in Decatur had gotten word of me and were plotting their revenge for their brethren.
How do you want to be defined? By one action? By some opinion that could evolve? By a mistake, regrettable only with hindsight? Or by the sum of your parts? Okay, do that for other people. Start the trend.