They say that astronauts become more of themselves the longer they’re in space. The capsule becomes an echo chamber, one’s quirks bouncing off the walls,…
Author: Grant Wentzel
I’m in no rush here, but before I kick it, I’d like to find a place to be buried, somewhere to rest my bones that…
There are holes in my education I tell you. Gaping holes. Black holes. Vortexes of ignorance that need to be carefully skirted lest the gilded…
I snuck into another reading group this summer, a sensibly paced one with bite-sized assignments: essays, chapters, meditations. I figured I could swing it. And…
My wife tells me I’ve got a problem with the T-shirts, the black T-shirts. I have dozens, some unworn, tags attached, in a bin in…
Bob Weir dropped some good advice in a GQ interview not long ago. But before I get to that, let me acknowledge that my relationship…
What was blogging before blogging? Odd question as now we’re pretty much living in a post-blog world. Sure, there are people with their own personal…
“Every summer I fight the dream of running away.” Sometimes a line sticks with you. I wrote that in a heartbeat years ago, submitting one…
I left them working, the car looking disgraced and empty with the engine open and the parts spread on the work bench, and went in…
Three imagined blocks abut A tower three-times struck. Set high with federal pride,Soon vandalized and then pulverized.Delinquent kicks, a joy-ride Through sky-bound fields, three crops…