Blog

  • ODDS and ENDS: Real Spring, Writing in Cafes, and Teaching My Daughter Important Stuff

    (What you tryin’ to hand me…)

    Well, today felt like the first day of Real Spring. Not that fake Spring where it’s warm for like an hour or two, and then it goes back to being cold. No, Real Spring is when it’s cool in the morning, sunny sky, and you know that by afternoon you will need to take off your coat. Yeah, flowers are coming up, and a few buds are showing up on trees. I even saw a squirrel waving at people. I will be happy to have the windows open again, and there is something reassuring about sleeping with the windows open at night. The kid is excited because she says that she will be able to start wearing shorts again. (She equates Spring as a lower version of Summer, but who am I to burst that bubble…) Real Spring does mean that change is on the wind, and life is about to renew. It’s also when the wife and I switch from sipping bourbon to enjoying a gin and tonic after work.

    I have started writing in cafes and coffee shops again. I’m not a huge fan of it; the act boarders on the side of performative art. But I have to also admit that writing at home has become a difficult situation for me. Difficult because Mario Cart is so tempting, and sitting in the apartment reminds me of how many home improvement projects I haven’t finished. So, to the neighborhood cafe I go. Luckily, I am not alone when I work there. I have been arriving at the same time each day, but haven’t discovered any regulars. As far as I can tell, I think I am the only writer. Seems like everyone else is working on code. And they all seem younger than me.

    I am still trying to figure out this parenting thing. Most of the time, I do believe that I am doing a good job raising her, making sure she is prepared for the world that she will enter sooner than I would like. And I do drop the ball from time to time, and make mistakes. But, I have learned to own up to my mistakes, and apologize to her when I do fail. And then on other days, I make her sit and watch the MST3k episode of “Bride of the Monster,” because I want her to be funny. Or at least appreciate weird funny stuff. She seemed to have enjoyed it. I just need to wait and see if I hear her make Lobo jokes around her friends.

  • Earworm Thursday: That Hook Lives in My Head Rent Free

    I just learned the name of this group three days ago.

    It’s Nu Shooz.

    Yeah, that synthesizer hook will at the most random times just start playing in my head. No rhyme or reason, it just plays.

  • Short Story Review: “Hatagaya Lore” by Bryan Washington

    (The short story “Hatagaya Lore” by Bryan Washington appeared in the March 31st, 2025 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Kotori Mamata

    When I moved to New York City, a place I always wanted to live in, it took years before it felt like my home. It took even longer for the guy who works at the bodega at the end of the block to acknowledge me at a regular in the neighborhood. (He now calls me “chief” instead of “you.”) But gradually, it started to feel like my home, and now it’s hard to think of it as anything but. Bryan Washington’s “Hatagaya Lore” examines how a place can become your community, and then your indispensable home.

    Here’s an overly simplified synopsis: The narrator and his husband move to Tokyo from Dallas. At first the narrator isn’t sure how to fit in, but soon finds his community, which leads to changes and growth.

    What I loved about Bryan Washington’s story is how he intersects community and intimacy, and the connections that are created from it. The narrator goes out and finds a community that he can connect to that sustains him as he journey in Japan. Yet, there is also a need in the narrator for more of an intimate connection with people, which isn’t always sexual, but is necessary to keep the narrator grounded, as the person he is growing into is beginning to flourish. Also, I liked Washington’s choice to have the narrator tells us, ever so briefly, about other relationships the he has had over the years in this story, but aren’t explained in detail, thus creating a feeling of trust and confidence between the narrator and us the reader; that we are only being told what is most important to the narrator, and nothing superfluous. It’s as if we are being added into the narrator’s community. Finally, I commend that the climax of this story is not the narrator “realizing” something profound, but is the narrator listening and observing.

    Bryan Washington’s writing skills are just phenomenal. He is one of my favorite “less is more” writers out there. Spartan is a fair description of how he describes most things in this story, but I am never left wanting for more, or feeling that details are missing. I appreciated how subtly the disillusion of the marriage was shown. In this story, a scene of their breakup isn’t needed, but showing that moment when the trust between the couple, that break in emotional intimacy, spoke volumes about the state of their relationship. And this story is peppered with moments like that, where there is a breath and space in this writing that allows weight to be infused in these situations.

    I’m a fan of Bryan Washington, and I can admit that I might not be the most objective person when it comes to evaluating this story, but eh… It’s a good story all around. I enjoyed being with these characters, seeing them interact, and watching them grow and find their place in the world. Some homes are made, while others are discovered.

  • That’s One Half-Assed Blog Post

    Sometimes you show up to dance, and then you don’t feel like dancing.

    I am 100% forcing myself to write something, anything, as I am running out of time today. The goal here, as it is every day, is to at least write 250 words. And for the past hour, I have been looking at Wikipedia pages, and listening to music. I also digressed to looking at Block Island on a map, and thought about making plans to go there. Though, I’m pretty sure I won’t be going there this year.

    See, I had a real tight schedule today to get everything done. This included moving the car, grocery shopping, journaling, working out, and getting a blog done. The one thing that looks like it will get left off is reading a new book of short stories that I have, and have also been putting of reading for a month now. I thought if I scheduled time to read, instead of reading when I felt like it, I would get a jump on the book… didn’t work out like I thought.

    I do have a procrastination problem. I can admit that.

    I think if I had a choice, I would always choose a nap. And that’s what I have been fighting all day.

    But here I am, trying to check all the boxes for today. Trying to feel like I accomplished something. That I followed through when I said I would. I do have a good chunk of the day left, but that will be occupied by picking up the kid and getting her to soccer practice.

    Okay, that’s 273 words. That’ll do.

  • Rainy Day New York Thoughts

    Rainy Day New York Thoughts

    I got up at 5:30 this morning, which is normal for a school day, and it was raining. It was the kind of raining that isn’t hard, but steady, and it whispers quietly, yet firmly, that I should go back to bed. I didn’t, but oh lord, did I get close to closing my eyes on the couch as the coffee brewed. The wife didn’t want to get out of bed, and neither did the dog. When I went to wake the kid, it only took her a second to register the sound, and quickly ask if she could also stay in bed.

    We all fought through it. We ate breakfast and dressed, and collected backpacks and a lunch bag. We walked to the subway in rain. We rode to our stop and walked to school in the rain. I ran errands, and did laundry at the local laundromat in the rain. The rain has made my clothes from this morning damp.

    It’s not that cold of a day, but the building’s steam heat is on, and to cool the apartment, we have to crack the windows. That has let the sound of the rain in, as well as a little more dampness. The influence of the rain, the mood of the rain, has creeped into our home, and is begging me to take a nap. Maybe read a book? Then take a nap? I should take a nap…

    As of now, it’s still raining, but it should taper off by the time I have to go get the kid. Walking around the neighborhood of her school, I’ll pass the brownstones with their wet stoops. It will stay cool out, like an early Spring day should, and the feeling of being a little lazy will hang off of everything.