Month: July 2016

Twenty-six years ago, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror in my little one-bedroom apartment on 42nd Street. For the first time in a week, I had black rings under my eyes again. My sinuses felt stuffed. I had a thirst that no water could quench. For once I…

All around us the neighborhood burned. Firecrackers, smoke bombs, fountains, and mortars. A couple of those really loud things—I don’t know what they are but I wished I had some—blew up and we felt the blast in our chests. They set car alarms honking and squealing. A normal Fourth of…

The last couple of days have blown through my life, bringing some fresh air and new perspective on my current state of affairs. It’s no secret that I’ve been having problems lately. Inertia makes my feet heavy and my mind dull. The lethargy and cynicism that comes with age has,…

The first time I ever smoked weed was in the fifth grade. We were on the annual class picnic at Sunnyside Park in Kansas City. It was a good, warm day in May. A small swimming pool stood at one corner of the park. About four of us followed a…