I’m not sure whether my childhood infatuation with flying things is nature, nurture, or both.
A recent Atlantic Monthly article suggesting that humans domesticated themselves by killing off the violent males in their midst sparked a short story idea.
I don’t know much about this whole “get rid of everything that doesn’t bring you joy” fad, but I know this:
What do you make?
It was awfully nice of somebody to arrange for the Fourth of July to fall on “Deep Cuts” day this year.
My granddad took that photo. I’m not sure where and when, but
The thing about a lifetime as a working musician is that you get really good at what you do.
Measuring most things is easy.
My mother loved everything about Christmas, and that included the music. I doubt she’d have much use for my playlists, though. Ma was more of a holiday traditionalist. Bust out the Bing […]
Being a father to two minors was the single must rewarding gig I’ve ever had.