The Captain I know passed away on Sunday morning at age 48 after battling pancreatic cancer. He fought valiantly, but let’s be real: cancer is a motherfucker, and pancreatic is one of the worst. The Captain was my first cousin Jaime’s husband and my good friend, and I already miss him. But I don’t want this to be sullen or maudlin. The Captain would kick me square in the Richard if he knew I made this sullen or maudlin. READ MORE
On Thursday, May 5—a manufactured “Mexican” holiday that gives amateur drunks an excuse to get sloshed on watery margaritas and warm Coronas—I encountered said crowds in downtown Manchester during the city’s Taco Tour and I freaked out. My social anxiety swelled like a broken toe, then I had to go. READ MORE
Like a prepubescent moth falling in love with an illuminated bulb, I knew—in the marrow of my bones—that I’d found my calling with my Nintendo. But it wasn’t until my parents purchased “Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out” for my 12th birthday[3] that I would actualize my role in the universe. READ MORE
In April of 2002, Green Bean Press, a small independent publisher in New York City[1], released my first full-length book—a collection of interrelated short stories titled “Frostbite.” I can look back at “Frostbite” now, two decades later, and say, with the objectivity that age affords, that the book had no business seeing the light of day. READ MORE
MANCHESTER, NH – Conventional wisdom would suggest that a rock’n’roll guitarist would be the last person you’d ask about getting a haircut. So there’s irony to the fact that when I met The Graniteers’ frontman READ MORE
As I re-read the essay to discuss with my classes, in light of Will Smith’s “slap heard around the world,” which all my students were buzzing about, it occurred to me that—maybe—both stories were speaking to the same issue, something so ingrained in American males that it often goes unnoticed. READ MORE
It’s the day before your birthday so stop reading the news. Stop thinking about that megalomaniac waging war in the Ukraine as soon as the pandemic started to wane. Stop obsessing about gas prices, and inflation, and your daughter’s college tuition, and the fact that being a human being of modest middle-class means these days is absolutely untenable. After all, you’re a just speck of dust in the dust-coated chaos of an eternal abyss. READ MORE
However, when Rocco and Buster became best friends under my roof and turned the house into a scene set from “The Adventures of Milo and Otis,” it was time to turn in my Man Card. READ MORE
MANCHESTER, NH – Since human beings began documenting our shared condition—some 5,000 years ago—a consistent antagonist has loomed in all of our stories, an inevitable and undeniable final act that most people spend their lives READ MORE
If the Ancient Greeks had invented a god of middle-aged Gen. X guys, his name would’ve been Grohl. READ MORE
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