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
