I Don’t Forgive and I Don’t Forget
First time
I give benefit of the doubt
Long Train Running: A Chicago Marathon Story | Chapter 7 — Easy Does It
Marathon training puts time and distance into relative perspective. Once you prove you can run seventeen miles on a Saturday morning, jogging a quick five constitutes an easy run. Six miles is nothing. It’s a breeze. It feels like less work than walking across the street to pick up my dry cleaning. Christ, I hate running errands.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of September 15, 2019
It’s okay to admit that you don’t know or understand something. In fact, it can be beneficial. It gives you the opportunity to listen better, differently, to learn something new and one day be the know-it-all you always knew you were.
Lotusland
"Saw a car accident there in meditation today." She pointed at an indeterminate northeast locale below. Nodding up at me in the pause as if I didn't believe her. "That's right, over coffee. I always stand right where you're standing for about fifteen minutes each morning while I break off a piece of the hottest joe I can possibly do, watching an interminably slow rush hour. The frustration is… transporting.“
Hope Idiotic | Part VI
The week that Lou arrived in Chicago, Franklin News, one of the largest media companies in the nation, laid off a thousand people. In the three months he’d been back, many other companies in his field had done the same. He wasn’t picky about whom he worked for, he just needed a gig. But every newspaper, magazine, radio station, marketing firm, advertising agency and public relations agency he could find wouldn’t even meet with him.
The Minutes of Our Last Meeting | Trump’s Homeless Solution
What if we made homeless people pretty?
Tips from the Universal Household Assistant | Weakness in Children.—
I didn't close the storm windows because I knew Dave would say, “I'll do it.” Then I'd make a show of how I was going to do it anyway and he'd have to say, “I don't mind, really.” So I sit here and he closes windows around me. Then he comes over and kisses the top of my head. “I think you smell good.”
![I Believe... [Too Much {Clap, Clap} Time On Your Hands...]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/579fa3912994ca0eff850271/1568139801077-SCWZFMLZSOILNCUB0NXY/chimpballs.jpg)
I Believe... [Too Much {Clap, Clap} Time On Your Hands...]
…that if the hill you die on is whether or not there is a female 007, that a Popeye’s chicken sandwich is less homophobic, or how many black people were in Game of Thrones, I’d suggest you have far too much time on your hands.
Hope Idiotic | Part V
Lou hit the San Francisco city limits just as night was coming down. He used the hostel book as promised to find a well-rated spot with a good view of the city. He’d never stayed in hostels before and was curious. He’d hoped to meet a few strangers he could make friends with for the night and explore the city with, but the place was pretty empty. It was too early in the summer for college students or Europeans to be backpacking their way through the country.
I Like to Watch | IT Chapter 2
It occurred to me about a third of the way into the film that this second half of the story isn’t about the clown, it’s about the people fighting the clown. As an older man, it hit me that this second act of The Losers Club was about adults suddenly being forced to deal with how their past shapes their present in both conscious and unconscious ways.
Real Life Ghost Stories: A Children's Home Ghost Hunt
An exploration of an abandoned children’s home that served as both boarding school and orphanage in Bloomington, Illinois, now demolished. This could be your last chance to enter the building before it disappears from memory forever, to feel the echoes of history long past.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of September 8, 2019
Ed Sheeran makes club music for moms and preschoolers.
Wet Rat
I couldn’t walk away. But most important, I had my pride. I tried to act like I could give a shit, but getting canned would fuck with my ego.
Hope Idiotic | Part IV
Years of overeating and not exercising had finally taken their toll on Chuck’s mom. She collapsed from a heart attack in her Indiana home — the same small, rundown place where Chuck was raised. She was recovering at the nearest hospital a few towns away. It was a massive attack requiring surgery to add stents and to repair the lining of her heart’s wall. She also had a deadly case of type-2 diabetes. Her body was crumbling. She was in a fragile state, and death seemed imminent.
The Minutes of Our Last Meeting I Always Remember Trump
This will be a 9/11 people will never forget!
Escaping the Crushing Need
This is not fucking fair. We’ve been together under false pretenses and I’m now expected to be the good boyfriend to two slowly declining grown women, both requiring my full attention and prone to demanding things rather than requesting help. If I leave, I’m a monster. If I stay, I’ve been consigned to a life of servitude.
I’ll be Disappointed if My Son Becomes a Cop
A young boy wanting to be a cop is not as bad as a young man becoming a cop. But a want that sticks around long enough is often gotten, especially if my son is raised to be the achiever we want him to be. If my son becomes a cop, if his want becomes his achievement, I’ll be disappointed. Not disappointed in him as much as I’ll be disappointed in myself and my wife. Because if my son becomes a cop, we were not good parents.
![I Believe... [Certainty is a Sign of Error]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/579fa3912994ca0eff850271/1567609791255-6Q7VSI1NV7RSCSU8VADX/chimpballs.jpg)
I Believe... [Certainty is a Sign of Error]
…that when it comes to economics, sociology, psychology, politics, meteorology, and craps, if you are dead certain of something you’re probably wrong.
Hope Idiotic | Part III
A MONTH LATER AT WORK, JUST BEFORE LUNCH, CHUCK BURST FROM HIS OFFICE into the area where Lou and I sat. He ran his hands through his short hair, clawing his scalp.
“Fucking Jesus!” he said.
Lou and I swiveled our chairs toward him and leaned back ready for the meltdown.
“Department meeting!” Chuck said. “Now! Cuba Café! Neal, you drive!”
“I can’t. I have to get gas.”
“Good. Get it on the way back.”
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of September 1, 2019
I admit that I’ll be disappointed if my son grows up to be a cop.
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.