![I Believe… [Too Much Absence]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/579fa3912994ca0eff850271/1730684696431-9LG56F84KEH4VEPSQ13U/IMG_2287+2.JPG)
Who Gets to Tell Your Kid’s Story?
I hated when my mother would talk about me to her friends when I was a kid. Hated it. Even the most bland of stories, like, say, that I was playing little league again that spring would infuriate me. And I know she shared way more about me than my pre-teen baseball career to her friends and family. Hated it. As if she knew anything about me whatsoever. As if my challenges and wins and all-inclusive experiences—as if my life—were her story to tell.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | 2021 New Year Resolutions Edition
If a resolution of yours is happens to be about your weight, please consider going easy on yourself. You’re not alone. We all hate our bodies and want someone else’s. For example, I want Gal Gadot’s.
Wonder Woman 1984 Couldn’t Save the Story
Wonder Woman 1984 was a disappointment. And not as much for me as for Diana and Wonder Woman. And for actor Gal Gadot. She was robbed of an interesting story. There is no character development in WW84 for our hero. Diana is in the exact same place as she was at the end of the first film.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Christmas Movies Edition
The most unrealistic thing about Home Alone is that Fuller, a bedwetter, would have also overslept.
I am Santa Claus: A Parenting Journey
Christmas Eve. Just after somewhere between 7:30 and 8:57-ish at night. My wife was hurried away in the kitchen preparing tomorrow morning’s breakfast—an egg casserole that’ll put hair on your mother’s balls. Delicious. I was lulling the child to sleep with three books. One about trucks, another about construction trucks, and the third, Goodnight Moon.
A Missed Opportunity
Hunting rats and my desire to kill them was the first topic of conversation my wife and I had when we met. She said I should not have been walking the alley behind my apartment with a small bb gun shooting at them because they had a right to be there. She wasn’t wrong. But neither was I. Fuck rats. Kill them all.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Favorite 2020 Conspiracies Edition
Kamala Harris is only a Black woman so Biden could get the white liberal woman vote.
"Baby, It's Cold Outside" 2020 Edition
He: Beautiful watch you're wearing
She: My father will be pacing the floor—Wait, what about my watch?
He: Listen to the fireplace roar
She: No. This isn’t about the fireplace. Look, really, I'd better scurry
He: Okay. That’s fair. Text me tomorrow. I’ll get you a Lyft.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of December 6, 2020
The only people who care about Hanukkah are bored Jews and gentiles trying to be nice.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of November 29, 2020
Watching The Crown, I saw the pretext that read: “The following episode includes scenes of an eating disorder which some viewers may find troubling. Viewer discretion is advised. Information and resources for those struggling with eating disorders are available at www.wannatalkaboutit.com” I thought, Oh, yay! Diana is back in this episode!
The End of These Unprecedented Times
In these unprecedented times… Unprecedented means never done or known before. So, every moment that comes is unprecedented. If we’re to believe that moments matter in the grand scheme of this exhausting, debilitating, and all too short life we live, which is governed entirely by time. Tick. Tock.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of November 15, 2020
Stop being so hard on yourself and everyone else. Just be social. Just be cool. Stop expecting so much from everything but have the ambition to make it all better. Then follow through.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Post-Election 2020 Edition
The Republican Party gained more ground locally, and even some nationally. The courts are full of conservative judges who have every opportunity to legislate from the bench. The fight rages on, and progress is still a little behind. We must be more tortoise and less hare. Mitch McConnell not only looks like a tortoise, he’s been playing the slow and stead game for a long time, which is why he’s winning.
Notes from the Post-it Wall |Week of November 1, 2020
I look forward to knowing the indisputable results of the presidential election so that we can enjoy our holiday season debating whether “Baby It’s Cold Outside” is a rape song or not. (It is. That’s how shit got done in President Truman’s America.)
Microsoft Teams is the Devil’s Tool
“This is no way to pray. This is no way to send our loved one off to the Great Beyond. To Heaven? I don’t know. I’m not sure anymore. I’m not even sure I was ever so sure at all.”
Typical Fr. Harrington. Always starting his sermons with a sense of existential dread and confusion. Topped off with a sprinkle of self-doubt. He’s the Woody Allen of Catholicism. He even had a questionable relationship with an ingénue at his old parish in Portland, Maine. That’s how he ended up here. In my church.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of October 25, 2020
I don’t want us to go back to normal. I want us to go forward to better.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of October 18, 2020
Man’s worst invention was the wife.
Woman’s biggest mistake was thinking changing her husband would end well.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of October 11, 2020
Most of the drunks I’ve come to know are really fun and funny people. I miss carousing with and observing with their kind. It’s not COVID’s fault—it’s the fault of age, responsibility, and domestication. The silver lining is that my two-year-old son often acts and talks like a drunkard, which quenches my thirst for being among fun lunatics with bad habits.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of October 4, 2020
Mike Pence is a virgin. I know he has kids—it doesn’t matter. Mike Pence is a virgin.
Zip, Zop, ZAP! Turn The Second City into a Laser Tag Arena
This Year of Our Lord, 2020, has revealed quite a few things about us. The recurring theme is that it’s high time our greatest institutions must die. The mighty must fall. So, as someone who interned at The Second City, went through several training programs, produced plays for its stages, here’s what I suggest happen to that theater: Turn it into a laser tag facility. Call it Zip, Zop, ZAP!
You may argue that now is not the time to open a new business, what with the pandemic and all. But laser tag is the perfect pandemic business.