Tag: Mental Health

  • Short Story Review: “A Private View” by Douglas Stuart

    (The short story “A Private View” by Douglas Stuart appeared in the April 20th, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Karolis Strautniekas

    Douglas Stuart’s “A Private View” reminds me of the short stories that The New Yorker used to publish back in the 50’s and 60’s. (This is meant as a compliment, FYI…) Those stories of old were all set in fabulously wonderful Manhattan, the characters had fascinating jobs in the arts, the stories took place in some social event or interaction, and everybody had lots of baggage. There was a strange comfortability in those old short stories, yet I would never call them predictable, as they seemed to project a New Yorker contemporary literary ideal. In this light, reading “A Private View” was the equivalent of reading on a rainy day in a warm sweater drinking a cup of coffee.

    This was a story that did lull me in. Perhaps I should admit that I am a sucker for stories about mothers and sons. The more troubled the better, and for that reason, I wasn’t paying strict attention to the story, and just let it easily roll and unfold before me. Also, with characters that were from Texas, it was almost too much up my alley.

    With all of that, I still have to say that I appreciated that this was a story that wasn’t afraid to take it’s time, flesh out the characters, and sprinkle the little clues on the edges of the frame. I also enjoyed Stuart’s use of the art show and the sculptures of the stations of the cross, and his descriptions of the contemporary figures that were worked in. It played wonderful with the theme of the story, and also provided a very fertile Gen-X visual vocabulary of childhood characters that still seem to flourish in the imaginations of people of a certain age.

    But what struck me as the most honest and true aspect of the story was the relationship between mother and son, and the satellite of the sister as well. It was palatable how uncomfortable all these relationships were with each other, and also understandable why each of the siblings made the choices that they did. One couldn’t stand to be disappointed anymore, and the other couldn’t let go. Perhaps the son was closer in personality to his mother, or perhaps the sister made her decision to let go, and the son had to hold on.

    I am keeping this review vague as I don’t want to give away anything in this story, but clearly I feel you should read it. Especially read it as Stuart does an excellent job with the climax, and the dénouement. Though heartbreaking, I found protagonist decision at the end of the story melancholy in its acknowledgement of the truth. A truth was needed, for this hero had been on this journey for some time, and it was time for him to move on.

  • Spring Break Broke Me (Unedited)

    I take full responsibility for my actions. Let’s start with that.

    The kid has been on her Spring Break for the past week, and on the whole, I have enjoyed the time we have spent together. The older she gets, the more fun she is to talk to. She very smart and a very opinionated kid, which makes conversations with her enjoyable because she is very passionate in what she believes in. She’s at a fun age when the world is brand new and just waiting for her to explore it. I didn’t try to over schedule her, but we did some fun stuff like spend an afternoon at the Whitney Museum, and we shot some arrows over at Gotham Archery in Brooklyn.

    But I did make a mistake with this Spring Break; I fell out of my routine. This was the kid’s Spring Break, not mine. For some reason, I got it in my head that I was also going to enjoy some “time off.” Unfortunately, this was a miscalculation, as you see, when you are a stay at home parent, you never really get a day off. Your job is to keep the family on track and moving forward. This I lost sight of.

    What I ended up creating in myself was a feeling of anxiety, and the sense that I was letting “everything” fall behind. Everything was taking longer to do, and thus created situations where I wasn’t able to complete the tasks that were important to me; mainly writing and catching up on my reading. But if I took time for myself, then I started feeling guilty, and then those feelings rolled up into a ball angst, as I wasn’t doing enough for my family.

    I chalk this up on bad planning, and too high of aspirations, on my part.

  • ODDS and ENDS: The Cold That Won’t Die, Writing in a Blazer, and Tottenham Woes

    (Cryin’ never did nobody no good…)

    So, I’ve had this cold for almost a week now, but it’s not a normal cold. Stuffy nose, post-nasal drip, coughing, but I don’t feel run down like I normally do when I have a cold. Also, this cold only seems to come alive for the first two hours of my day, and then all night when I try to sleep. Other than that, I feel rather normal. But the damn thing won’t go away. It won’t get worse, and it won’t get better. It just exists in a perpetual state of being… Neither gaining nor losing energy.

    I am sitting and writing in a blazer today. No real reason to be this formal, other than I want to sit on the couch, my computer on my lap, trying to think up three jokes to write about, with a blazer on. It’s not cold in the house, and I have no one to impress, just felt like something I should do. Like, how I should put jazz on, get a glass of wine, and catch up on some reading. Hell, here’s a picture to prove that this is really happening.

    So, Thomas Frank got sacked as manager for Tottenham Hotspur this week. I think it was a mistake, yet I also freely admit that things can and will get worse for this team. They just can’t get out of their own way, and with the injuries piling up, there seems like little chance of hope. Relegation is a very real possibility. I won’t blame Frank for this, as it seems like he just has had the worst luck for a first-year manager. I put the blame for this situation on Daniel Levy and Peter Charrington. Levy created an untenable situation where the expectation is that managers are interchangeable. Honestly, the team hasn’t been the same since Mauricio Pochettino was at the helm, and he was fired for a stupid reason like not being successful enough. Sure, do wish we could go back to those days when we were in the Champions League Final and at the top of the table in the Premier League. Honestly, I don’t put it past West Ham to get enough of their act together and make a run to get out of the bottom three, and kick either Nottingham Forest or Spurs down the ladder. I don’t want to see Tottenham in the Championship, but if that’s what it will take for the owners to get their heads out of their respective asses, then so be it.

  • Getting Things in Order (Unedited)

    I know that January is over half way over, but in my little world, the wife and I are still trying to figure out what our 2026 is going to look like. This is more than “New Year’s Resolutions” which are I feel are doomed to fail. No, this planning is more like setting out birthday and holiday budgets, if and where do we want to travel, do we remodel the kid’s bedroom this year. Stuff like that. You know, planning.

    And then there are goals. Paying down debt is high on the list, and it would be nice to drop ten pounds. I think that 2026 is the year that I need to start earning an income. A few dollars here and there from writing has been cool, but it isn’t enough to actually make a dent in the family’s finances. I’m not sure/confident that 2026 will be the year that writing starts bringing dollars, or if I will need to go out and get a traditional job. And if I go out and get a job, do I return to my former career of arts admin, do I try something different, or do I go after a part-time gig to keep my stay-at-home-dad creds current?

    Now, 2025 didn’t actually work out the way we planned, but I do know that God got a good laugh outta it; per normal. Yet, 2025 wasn’t a bad year. We made progress as a family, and the kid is good and happy, which is our paramount concern day in and day out. But, I have to take responsibility that I didn’t complete the number of stories that I had set as my goal, and I did fall one story shout on my publication/acceptance goal for the year. And I did drop ten pounds, but put it back on during the Holidays, so that was a wash.

    But as I look at 2026, and even with all the shit that is flying around in this country and in the world (I’m still doom-scrolling in the morning) I haven’t given up yet. I hope that one day I will get to rest and relax, but I know life is struggle and I don’t see that changing. Struggle for a better day, a better world for my kid and yours, too.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Tired, Mushroom Stock, and Writing in a Cafe

    ODDS and ENDS: Tired, Mushroom Stock, and Writing in a Cafe

    (Have you got nothing to say?)

    I need more sleep. I think I have been saying this since I was fifteen years old. And I like naps, but what I am here to talk about is that I need more of the bedtime type of sleep. And what I also need is for my body to stop waking up between 5:30a and 6a in the morning. That I think is what is holding me back. Sure, I could go to bed earlier – that’s logical. But what is more logical is for my brain to stay turned off until 7a or 8a. That would be the biggest help. See, if I go to bed at 9p to 10p, my body wakes up at 5:30a. If I go to bed at midnight or 1a, again, the body wakes me up at 5:30a. I’ve tried to explain to my brain and body that all the cool shit in the world happens between 11p and 2a – its a magical time. So, if we could adjust that internal wake up call, then all parties would be happy. Could you do that for me?

    I make my own mushroom stock for Thanksgiving. I’m not bringing this up to toot my own horn here, as the recipe I use is stupidly simple. Anyone could do it. No, the reason I bring this up is because not too long ago, at least in Manhattan anyway, it was easy to get mushroom stock at virtually any grocery store. Then all of a sudden it disappeared. Couldn’t get it anywhere. I could order it online, but to do that, I had to buy in bulk, like six cartons, when all I needed was just one quart. Same thing with shrimp/seafood stock. It just disappeared from the store shelves.

    I write in a cafe now. Not all the time, but a few days a week. Nothing special here, just something that I started doing again. It took about a month, but now the guys who work at the cafe recognize me, and get my coffee ready when I walk in the door. It’s a part of being a “regular” in New York City that makes living here cool.