When In Dallas

Visit 400 Grandi. I recommend the Tagliatelle Alla Bolognese. It’s a dense mound of pasta ribbons dressed in meat ragu. The taste and texture is from another world. The dish conquered my ageusia. Order the Salami Board for savory tidbits of cured meats and cheeses, Italian bread and pickled vegetables for a pre-entree rehearsal. If

Being A Grown Up Feels Like Punishment

I have a giant, existential chip on my shoulder. My default emotional state is bored, gloomy irritation. Especially with the chores and social obligations that make up the bulk of waking life. I resent the passionless, undifferentiated routines of adulthood. It takes a lot to make my happy. It takes very little to upset me.

Sentencing

I am the dark overlord of the twenty first century and I sentence all to death by never-ending, mundane complexity.

It’s Almost Time

It’s morning and winter’s gray stiffness pins me to the dirt. Somewhere, in a narrow crawl space of my mind, there is the inkling of hazy disappointment. It’s the first day of spring and I’m cold. Not chilly. Not in need of a light jacket to get me through the short frostiness of daybreak. I’m

I Was Wrong About Trump

It certainly appears so, at least.  Biden didn’t win. Corporate media knows it. Politicians know it. The American people know. The world knows. Trump knows that his historic, landslide victory was stolen by the same people that talk about democracy and suffrage like sacrosanct entitlements from God.  The statistical anomalies are unprecedented. The impossibly massive

Obedience and Showing You Care

Have you heard of this bologna called love languages? The idea is people give and receive love in different ways. That’s pseudoscience. There is one love language: obedience to arbitrary rules.

Boomer Parenting # 27

The words “I’m sorry” should not be in a parent’s vocabulary. Apologies are a slippery slope. “I was wrong” is a cursed phrase, for Pandora’s Box has opened. Suddenly, you’re expected to take responsibility instead of blame shifting. No thanks. I didn’t sign up for that!

The Supernatural Metaphysics of Childhood

That’s the Sears Tower stealing the show. I took the picture during a flight home from Las Vegas. Chicago from the sky is an encounter from another world. Downtown fits inside the peephole of my thumb and forefinger. Imaginations burst forth. The Sultan of the Indies on a magic carpet. Bellerphone on Pegasus. Mount Olympus.

Thought #29

Open borders plus welfare state is legless water monsters dragging landwalkers back into the slums of the primordial ooze.

I Can’t Go On

Please tell Tom Clancy that technical details about weaponry and submarine mechanics is not story telling. I’m 200 pages in and half of what I’ve read amounts to military tech porn. This novel had potential. A Soviet submarine captain goes rouge, defecting to America, after an incompetent, communist (I repeat myself) doctor kills his wife