Fortunate for my readers, I have finished watching the PBS documentary about the Mormons, but not without a comet’s tail of inspiration from these hardworking, family-oriented, non-drinking, upright Utahans. Many know that the two most important figures in Mormon’s founding were Joseph Smith and Brigham Young. Smith was the guy who found the gold plates,… Continue reading Facing Doubt and Indecision the Mormon Way
Yesterday I wrote a post about Peter the bore. It was essentially a diatribe about his inauthenticity, his desire (and resultant failure) to impress, his lack of interest in those around him, and so on. It was a warning to all the boring people in the world to straighten out and fly right. I was… Continue reading Diary of a Mad White Man: Addendum to Yesterday’s Post
Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else's opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation. Oscar Wilde, De Profundis, 1905 Last night I ran into an acquaintance at a holiday party. I will call him Peter. Peter is tall, muscular and handsome for his age (I’d clock him at 45). He’s… Continue reading Are You a Bore?
“How would you live if you lived 100%?” This was a question I posed to myself in a dream last week. I woke up seconds later contemplating the question’s implications. What was I waiting for? When are you really going to invest in your dream of being a writer? When are you going to stop… Continue reading Thought of the Week: Life Never Happens Later
In April of 1998, the two things I was most passionate about—whiskey and my motorcycle—produced an unfortunate, if predictable, collision. I had just left a concert at the Fox Theatre in Boulder, Colorado, after a long day of partying—drinks and barbecue at my friend Todd’s before the show, several more drinks at the show. I… Continue reading 32 Points to Freedom
I was hanging out at home the other afternoon when I noticed a distinctly rat-corpse-like form on my floor. When I first noticed it, I was chatting with a friend. I chose to table issue until he left. As soon as he did, my fear was realized: there was a dead rat with splayed guts… Continue reading Don’t Look at the Dead Rat in the Living Room
Eighteen years-old. I had just spent three months sitting in my folks’ basement continuously high, working out, watching TV, in near-complete isolation, interacting only with parents and pot-dealer. Bleakness prevailed. I thought learning how to play my dad’s old guitar might help. I just needed $30 for a book so I could learn some chords. … Continue reading The Joy of Breaking Down