Of KonMari & Kalashnikovs

Once, in one of those past lives we all have, lifetimes stored in plastic containers, I tried to learn Russian. My main motivation was to better understand my ex-wife, born in Moscow, in the grips of the Soviet Union.

What is Love?: On Male Sex and Sexuality

We listened to Bon Jovi’s “Living on a Prayer,” over and over again on a plastic, red and yellow Fisher-Price record player. It was my first sleepover. We were first-grade classmates. I don’t remember his name. Jacob, maybe. Perhaps Adam. I remember what he looked like: big, brown eyes, sandy hair, skin a shade darker than mine.

Then we got bored.

The Punisher, Kyle Rittenhouse, & the Trump-White Supremacist Death-cult

Deal, Or No Deal: Spring Break ‘08—America’s Alzheimer’s

With that line everyone in the office cracked up in hard laughter. I wonder how many of them will remember that moment. 

I know my dad won’t. And that’s the deal.