Home is a base, a starting point, a fixture to which I latch a tether, however temporarily. Like a climber reaching for the next anchor point, I’m always searching for somewhere new to fasten a hold.
It's amazing to think, if not for my sixth grade teacher, I might be an engineer instead of a writer.
It was an ugly, brown polyester gas station attendant’s jacket, made all the more unsightly by large rips, frayed edges, and a phalanx of safety pins. I thought it was the coolest thing I'd ever seen.
I'm using this space to say thank you to those whose lives became intertwined with mine throughout this past decade, for better or for worse (for me, mostly the former; for them, mostly the latter). This was a solitary journey for the majority of the years, yet I didn't do it on my own.
Come with me on a journey into the ancient past: 2005.
I'm sitting in an airport being barraged by an odd sight: T-shirts, fleeces and jackets emblazoned with the logos for the Kansas City Royals and Chiefs or the Kansas Jayhawks.
I have been in Kansas. I'm not there, anymore. (Guffaw.) For a long weekend, I returned to the state of my upbringing to attend the 'marriage ceremony' of one of my oldest and dearest friends. She and her husband had married in Las Vegas some months back, but this was their opportunity to hold a … Continue reading Family
Dear Zach Wahls, I, like the majority of America, first came to know of you when the video of you advocating on behalf of same-sex marriage before the Iowa House of Representatives went viral. It was clear from watching that 3-minute speech that a young man so well-spoken, personable and handsome would have more than … Continue reading An Open Letter to Zach Wahls
