If there’s a brotherly love that can happen between men, I felt it most for my old Cajun friend Myki. And I think about him every Fat Tuesday when the Mardi Gras music starts, and wonder what he’s up to…. Read More ›
Music
“More Fandom than Ekphrasis” | Bruce Jenkins on music and memoir
In case you missed it, check out this great piece by writer Bruce Jenkins inspired by a recent blog-a-day project I completed earlier this month. It’s not just being flattered by the fact Bruce riffed off my project, but that… Read More ›
Field notes from the Pacific Coast | 101 to Aberdeen
This is a series of posts from three days out on my favorite stretch of the Pacific Coast. The posts don’t need to be read in order and serve as a memoir experiment with side-stories from related trips and themes… Read More ›
“In the midst of life we are in debt, et cetera”
Wednesday, that day time slows every week, with Lily on a late-start for school, the possibility we could all sleep in until 7:30 but never do, a day I work from home with Charlotte on early release, meaning she gets… Read More ›
Anthony’s Navel: PJ Harvey, ‘Let England Shake’
Anthony goes inside PJ Harvey’s navel for his deep-dive of her 2011 album in my Saturday guest blog series. PJ Harvey will be one of the most important artists to record music between the 1990’s and whenever she decides she’s… Read More ›
Why Led Zeppelin called that one ‘Presence’
By the time Led Zeppelin got to their seventh album Presence the band sounds tired. Still good, still Zeppelin, but starting to show signs of wear. How could they not? How many bands make seven perfect albums like that? Less… Read More ›
How the wind played us like an instrument that night
The morning feeding ritual at Mike’s, two dogs, two cats, the quiet crunching of animals chewing, a dishwasher churning, the bathroom fan, the soothing sound of it like rain hitting the roof, going down the drain spouts into the ground:… Read More ›
Bringing it all back home to Blonde on Blonde
We ate the last of the Tartiflette cold, mom most of it, and fought over the bites with our forks like we were playing a game of hungry hippos gulping down marbles. I got my first sunburn of the season… Read More ›
De do do do, Die, Das, Der, Dem
Six years ago we were leaving Germany about this time following a three month sabbatical, and I was returning to work. It may have been auspicious, I had a blowout on the highway and had to call roadside assistance my first… Read More ›
Meet me at the cemetry gates
We dropped the kids off for their first day of German school, their first class French — French taught in German — and I walked to the cemetery by the Realschule, where we’ve started our third week of German classes,… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 