Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of April 19, 2020
If your concern over stay-at-home orders is because of the negative impact it may have on mental health, fuck you. Where was your concern over mental health before you couldn’t get your Starbucks each day?
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of April 12, 2020
Walked past the nice homeless guy who hangs around outside my 7-11. He said, “Hey, man! I love your dog, you know!” I said, “Hey, buddy! How’re you doing?” He said, “I’m proud to be American!” And that right there… There is no greater exchange to exemplify how terribly mental illness impacts the homeless community.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of April 4, 2020
The religious and passively observant religious welcome spring by celebrating two of the Bible’s most violent and frightening stories. Among the abandoning and killing of children, general death and destruction, and zombies ascending to heaven, I do hope you can stop to enjoy the smell of tulips in bloom.
Fur is Murder
As loved as we were by the Boschmann’s, we were still a negro family and had to live in the negro part of town. This part of town was not Officer Sweeney’s beat. He being at our door to arrest my Ronnie was strictly a courtesy. At some point during all the celebration, Mr. Stanley had been murdered. Stabbed in the throat three times. Another four times in the chest and seventeen times in his crotch. I nearly dropped Caroline as Officer Sweeney gave us more details while the other cops escorted Ronnie back to our bedroom so he could get dressed before they slapped cuffs on him.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 29, 2020
Humor is not a universal language. It is, by nature and design, intended for siloing. Even the greatest broad comedy has its haters. The closest thing to universally accepted comedy is Jay Leno and, c’mon, fuck Jay Leno.
Converting to Evangelical Christianity
These last few weeks, I’ve listened to the words of Illinois Governor J.B. Pritzker and the hosts of NPR and PBS news programs. Shit is bad. Things are fucking fucked up. And we’re doing the best we can based off of the shitty truth this coronavirus COVID-19 forces our leaders and exhausted experts bring us. And I’m no dummy. I can read writing on the wall. These are end times. And that’s why I’ve made the very hard, very serious decision to convert to Christianity.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 22, 2020
My son, like so many other two-year-olds, loves ambulances and firetrucks. To occupy him, I’ll sometimes let him watch 9/11 news reports on YouTube.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 15, 2020
This COVID-19 pandemic is worse than 9/11 because we can’t hug each other.
The Primary Reason I Didn’t Vote in the Illinois Primary
The primary reason I didn’t vote in the Illinois Primary yesterday—Rachel Maddow’s third best orgasm of 2020—is simple: It wasn’t important.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 9, 2020
Slowly but surely, if the U.S. doesn’t get its hands and head around this pandemic, it will consume us. It will destroy the markets because of fear, quarantines, and no one spending. We’ll crumble before we come out of it. And our leader is so unbelievably clueless to it. The health officials have to contradict him with the facts at every turn. Everyone thought it was a joke. Nope. Idiots. All of us. And Tom Hanks is going to die. That is our ultimate punishment.
Enjoying the Perks of Novel Coronavirus COVID-19
COVID-19 is coming for our favorite food, our favorite professional sports league that doesn’t have cheating champion teams, and the one Baby Boomer white man of all America can get behind. Things seem bleak. But after spending forty years in this body and several thousands of dollars on therapy, I am well-equipped to find the silver lining in any situation. I’d tell you that I’m a positive person in moments of crisis, but I feel that telling you I’m positive in this climate would only scare you off.
Sailors Grow Weary of the Wind
Therapists get tired of listening
Sailors grow weary of the wind
Parents are exhausted by their children
Losers become bored with trying to win.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 1, 2020
POTUS matters. But nothing matters more than the Senate. No president—not Sanders, Biden, or Trump—can do all the good or ill they want if the Senate does its job right. If Trump wins, which he probably will, he’ll be rendered almost powerless if we can get the barnacles sucking at his disfigured taint out of office. Policy is law, law comes from legislators. Put the majority of your focus on the Capitol, not the White House.
Any Fiction Can Be Written By Anyone
Who has a right to tell what pretend stories? The answer is simple: Anyone who doesn’t suck at writing.
Cummins’ American Dirt doesn’t take the story of immigrants away from actual immigrants. They have their stories. They should tell them. And here’s where the rub is: they must have the platform to tell those stories. That is, publishers ought to be looking for diverse voices. Not simply to fill a skin color or gender quota, but because diversity is a great thing for creativity. I don’t know what the publishing industry is like for a person of color. I do know that I’ve come across a lot of agents and publishers who are looking specifically for women and people of color, which rules me out. Which is why I think the diversity should be about the stories. What’s good? What’s got a new approach to a familiar tale? Perhaps that comes from fewer white men. Sure, I don’t care. That just makes me have to work harder to be better. Feels like a good challenge to have.
Suicides and Saxophones
I went to junior high with this kid Ben Jameson*. We played saxophone together. He was always one chair ahead of me. I liked Ben. We goofed off together. He had great hair. His mom was hot, just like mine.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of February 23, 2020
Purity is a fallacy.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of February 17, 2020
I’m in Waco for work today. And you know what they say: “When in Waco, do as the Branch Davidians do.” So I’ll be making a stop at the Silos to have a cupcake and buy a candle. The candle will then be used to burn down a compound.
Two Cab Rides in Trump’s America
“I see so many white folks freaking out. That’s because they’ve never heard this kind of talk this way before. They’re finally hearing what black folks have been hearing since the beginning. This is nothing new. Don’t worry about it. Just do what’s best for you and your family. We’ll all be fine.
The Sound of Clanging and Indoor Soccer Games
There’s far too much noise
and I can’t tell if it’s coming from the neighbors upstairs
or just the usual clanging in my head.
I don’t hear the clanging as often or as loudly as I used to.
I suppose that’s a good thing.
But right now, with the baby put down, the puppy mellow and asleep on the warm mountain of clean clothes on the couch, and the wife off visiting a friend, the familiar clanging is as loud as it once was.
And I feel like a bachelor.
That means now is the perfect time to clean.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Valentine's Day Edition
Valentine’s Day is a lot like getting asked to tell a joke on demand. There’s a lot of pressure to perform perfectly and usually you come up short.
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.