There were times I’d walk out into our garage and just stare. Stare at the progress I’d made to restore order which was rare, and worth staring at. The state of the garage is like an ocean beach, the calm… Read More ›
Memoir
“In the morning there would be no Monday”
Though I didn’t have the heat set high, when I came home the house felt warm. It felt warm with the aroma of life, lived in, of home cooking and freshly washed towels, kids coming of age, house plants, pets…an… Read More ›
Discreet Music | “Letter for 2018,” Jan. 31
Jan. 31, 2018, Hi everyone, we’ve had a pretty good year here so far, we can’t complain. Mark Smith died (my favorite singer), and so did the wall clock in our den. I bought another one on Amazon but it’s… Read More ›
Who’s really sitting around crying now, getting drunk over Mark Smith?
When I moved to Philadelphia in 1995 there was a record store off South Street with an old speaker out front, and the first time I heard “The NWRA” (The North Will Rise Again) it was there, bleating out, getting… Read More ›
Discreet Music (MES edition) | Jan. 24, 18
I’ve lived out here since ’96 and always had a good attitude about the rain, that it’s just November and December which are hard, that by the time you get to January you’re over the hump. Not true! It doesn’t… Read More ›
Discreet Music | “Brutal Ardour,” Jan. 22, 2018
So on a typical Monday here in the suburbs: Lily (12) starts seeing a therapist and texts me, “My therapist said I shouldn’t worry about finishing my homework tonight.” Charlotte (10) is caught moping over the kitchen island drawing another… Read More ›
Discreet Music | January 11, 2018
“Discreet Music” is the name of a Brian Eno album from 1975 and also a new blog series I’m running through January, prompted by a journal-writing theme I started in Germany over the holidays. It’s inspired by the David Sedaris… Read More ›
Discreet Music | January 8, 2018
Came home from work and washed my hands, poured the last of the white wine. The January bugs are back, gray and plain, looking in at me sideways. A flock of birds like playing cards shuffled, then rearranged. There must… Read More ›
Discreet Music | January 5, 2018
It’s been a busy week, which is strange for the first week of the year. But I’m ending a project we started in September, with about a dozen CEO’s from companies around the world meeting over a few days. C-level… Read More ›
Bone piece
The memoir, the story of your life, is an object of questionable value. You hold it in your hands, shake, listen: what’s inside? Is there a lock? Does it open? What’s it for? You could take it to someone who… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 