It took me all week to eat the Frito pie, that 70s classic of sautéed beef and chili powder, canned enchilada sauce, fried onion, beans, melted cheese and corn chips. When I served it for the Super Bowl people just… Read More ›
Memoir
The no-shame inventory reflection
This is a hard one. There are the memories you go back to and savor and then the ones you shy away from. Some are non-memories, like moments that could have been memorable but got squandered. It all swirls around… Read More ›
Another window
I went back up Tiger Mountain but this time in the dark, walking mostly by moonlight. It takes about an hour to get to the top and it’s a well-groomed trail, though there are some big rocks to watch out… Read More ›
Dead or alive
Up before the birds, walking in the dark. They say you shouldn’t be alone at the state park when it’s low light with the cougars so I walk in the neighborhood instead. It’s no fun worrying about cougars anyway, looking… Read More ›
Mensis Februarius
You get enough light to walk by now a half an hour before sunrise. Still it was too dark and I jumped the gun driving to the state park in the rain. You could see it in the headlights and… Read More ›
Your own personal Jesus
Thirty years ago I moved to Seattle, sight unseen. I was living in Philadelphia with my girlfriend in an artist loft in a bad part of town. That winter in Philadelphia was the worst one in years, as was the… Read More ›
That one January in the UK
As January came to a close we left our rental in Bath and made our way down to Canterbury. I remember thinking we’ll probably never be back here, and feeling a sadness in that. But it was more the fact… Read More ›
Breaking Bad before we knew it
It took us 13 years to wise up to it, but we finally watched Breaking Bad all the way through, five seasons, fifty-some hours of content. Prior to the last episode I went back to The Atlantic archives to read… Read More ›
Human years
1/21/26 The sound of the cock crowing in the morning is doleful the way it peaks and trails off. It’s so cold when the headlights hit the road it is all diamonds, the frost. Up ahead it’s the old guy… Read More ›
High January
In the morning the biting cold as I’m walking in the dark. Some sweet smell of wood fire smoke and the din of far-off traffic. The din is like a distant waterfall in the woods, always there. The thrum of… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 