“I ruined Christmas!”
The tears burst from my nine-year-old’s eyes as she blamed herself for the ramifications of a global pandemic that has lasted for three years. All kids go crazy for Christmas, of course, but my daughter is certainly in the highest percentile of Santa fanatics, so having her holiday plans dashed was especially difficult.
Film adaptations are tricky. How can you boil down 400 or more pages of story, themes, and character development into a two hour film without losing the impact of what was on the page?
Anyone that has had their favorite book turned into a movie knows the feeling of being simultaneously excited and anxious, hopeful and terrified, at what the outcome will be.
Now it’s my turn, as the film adaptation of The Tender Bar, the book that completely changed my life, is set to be released in theaters and on Amazon Prime Video.
Last weekend I had the opportunity to have dinner with a close friend Friday night and lunch with my siblings on Sunday. My brother and sister live on opposite coasts, so this was a relatively rare event.
It was a weekend full of laughs, stories, and love. And regret.
I was recently listening to a podcast and the closing question was “What is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you?”
The guest had a great answer. Did I?
I thought I was good at managing my time, but having children has made me so much better at it.
That may seem counterintuitive. After all, children suck up all of our time. The moment they finish eating a meal, they’re asking for snacks. They need diaper changes and baths. They’re constantly pulling you somewhere to color or play or read to them. They need to be driven to practice and doctor appointments and friends’ homes. They create an incredible amount of dirty dishes and dirty laundry. They make the house look like it’s been ransacked and looted. They are agents of chaos.
They also want all of your time all of the time.
“I thought about losing weight once, but I don’t like to lose.”
— Unknown
It was not a New Year’s resolution per se. As the ball dropped on the strangest and, in some ways, most difficult year most of us had ever experienced, I didn’t make a grand pronouncement to lose weight. I didn’t write it down or post a status update about it or scream it to everyone I encountered in January. Rather, it was more of a hazy, general goal.
It’s time to get healthy.
“For all sad words of tongue and pen, The saddest are these, ‘It might have been.’”
— John Greenleaf Whittier
It was always just a dream.
“Having a two-year-old is like having a blender without a lid.”
— Jerry Seinfeld
This is a dispatch from the war. I’m writing this from the trenches, in the heart of the conflict.
After what has felt like hours of intense battle, the rebel soldier has deployed her ultimate weapon, the one that is unleashed when all else fails: standing in the center of the kitchen, screaming at the top of her lungs as droplets of saltwater jump from her eyes.
What could have caused such a reaction? What did the oppressive totalitarian government do to the people to cause this emotionally-charged attack from the rebel?
Dinner was served.
I received the second dose of the COVID-19 vaccine yesterday.
“When autumn winds have stolen summer’s last kiss I will find you again in my dreams; over and over past thousands of Thursdays, until I can meet you under grey skies and flaming trees.”
Nicole Lyons
As the calendar pages turn and summer begins to loosen its grip on the world, many people become a bit despondent and lament the end of the long, warm days of July and August as they are replaced by the extended darkness of autumn and winter evenings.
I, however, love the shorter days of fall.
The Passion of Christopher Pierznik 