Prefrontal Gortex

latte sipping

Born to Fish, Forced to Work

The secret sauce that made the fish go so wild was a mixture of oatmeal, chum, seawater, and sand. A single tear came to my eye, so amazed was I that they could sell sand to a fish.

woods

The GD Ephemeral Media

Alltrails had warned that the lake might still be frozen over, even in July. It would also be buggy. I thought about the subway, scoffed, and packed a towel. I love to swim on a hike.

sold-out shows

Tip the Band, Kiss the Cook

Vampire Weekend invite you over for dinner, but it just so happens they’re fresh out of Aleppo pepper, and no the paprika or crushed red pepper or certainly not Fresnos will do. The dish is ruined.

sold-out shows

Killer Parties

If I were 52, and my band had been together for 20 years, I would have serious reservations about playing a bowling alley for one, much less four, of my precious 365 annual nights, eight years in a row.

sold-out shows

Second Rodeo

I swaggered in with a better setup, lots of electrolytes, and an “it’s not my first rodeo” level of arrogance. Emily came equipped with three packages of baby wipes, fresh but refrigerator-agnostic vegetables, and an open mind.

latte sipping

Consummate Professionals

Toward the end of the match, one of my friends turned to me and whispered something along the lines of “god, this guy is just such a professional.”

gallivanting

Monetize the Mountains

On that train, we learned that we could have been fined 100 francs each for “forgetting” our outbound train ticket, so we acquiesced and dropped some 40 francs together for one way’s 45 minute journey.

gallivanting

Le Grand Chef

While he waited, I found a young man walking about the plaza, buckling under the weight of the keg on his back. He sold commemorative cups of beer after the show, outside of the venue, in paradise.

woods

Everything's Bigger in Tahoe

But, the sludge fell, and they got stuck on the shores of a small lake now named for them. “I ate my parents, and all I got was this stupid lake,” a novelty t shirt might read.

gallivanting

Olive Oil in a Bottle

So I stepped carefully into the men’s locker room where I changed into the “disposable underwear”

latte sipping

Where do you all keep your whippits?

To get into a band like Cradle of Filth, that is a longer story, one in which a yes was given to a piercing, a tattoo, a t shirt, a hair style, and a host of other things my parents don’t want me to have.

latte sipping

Filmed on a sound stage in Queens

Around this time, I first listened to the White Album in earnest. This was not the right place to start, because it makes no sense. The album is long, and it is deliberately disjointed.

latte sipping

When You're Here, You're Family

Over the summer, I dropped by one of the finest eating establishments ever established for eating. I wrote about it in an ill-fated gambit at winning something. Enjoy.

latte sipping

It's Raining, It's Pouring

Let's all gather round the water cooler to talk about the rain. The city isn't waterproof. Ark tickets are going fast. Get yours today.

woods

100 Wild Miles

Hiking the Whites in 2018, some of my acquaintances would bandy about the phrase “hike your own hike” as a disclaimer, a “with all due respect”-type precursor to a gripe session. Hike your own hike is necessary because people who walk for five months tend not to be huge into rules.

tine

Backstreet's Back, Alright

The Coyote Ugly Saloon had been closed and locked up since I moved to the neighborhood, but Monday evening I looked in, saw the lights on, and saw the bartenders boogie atop the bar.

latte sipping

Inside, Outside, USA

If I see the same set of chicken bones scattered in the same ill-omened pattern next to the entrance to the L three days in a row, am I really outside?

latte sipping

Basement Bars are Low Places

We got a couple winks and hoots from a table of middle-aged women, so we indulged and made the walk to the bar into a runway. I offered an unsolicited twirl.

woods

A Road to Nowhere

If you are supposed to be walking down a horse trail and find yourself thinking “Wow! These horses must be nimble!” you are not on the right trail.

woods

Trust in a No-Fall Zone

Mountaineering axe in hand, quaking my way up the rear, I looked up to Jonah and Josh and announced that mountaineering was the worst sport for a neurotic. Josh offered to take our photograph.

tine

This is My Vaccine Photo

I had thought she was continuing to banter when she said they were “making more vaccines,” but sure enough she was out. A guardsman skipped by and handed her a few syringes out of a plastic bowl that might have held Halloween candy a few months before.

woods

Breakfast Buffet

Each time I stealth camped, I slept with the paranoid fear of being shaken awake by a ranger demanding what, exactly? the $5 I would have paid to sleep at an established site?

tine

Yeast in the Air Makes Hipsters Rise

These people have read longer books, grown thicker mustaches, learned more niche instruments, and defeated me. I have sat helpless as this whole thing exited a honeymoon period of opportunistic self improvement to return to toxic self appraisal.

tine

In Case of Emergency: Drain Glass

We never predicted our current predicament, but I am now thrilled to have all this yellowing wood pulp “just in case.” A stack of Monday crosswords seemed a prime candidate to give me a sense of achievement amidst this uncertainty.

tine

Life Bottled Up

What I've learned about myself and my great wishes in the age of shelter-in-place