"And the days blur into one/And the backs of my eyes hum with things I've never done"

To quote the Grateful Dead, what a long, strange trip it's been.

Fuckin. A.


Welcome back, faithful readers! It's been a minute, hasn't it? I last posted on 7 January 2012-just shy of nine years ago. And, I'm sure like many of you, a lot has changed. To give you a brief rundown as to my whereabouts since our last correspondence:

- In 2014, I married the sweetest, most kind-hearted woman ever in existence.
- We moved from the South Side to Wash. Co. in 2017.
- Our son was born shortly after we made our move.
- Our daughter was born in May 2020 during the pandemic.
- My brother got married to a wonderful woman, I gained a sister, and they're expecting their first child in a few weeks.
- I lost the last of my grandparents, which is sad because I miss them, but it's unfortunate because they would have been over the moon due to all of our babies. In fact, my grandmother may have lived forever if she knew she would have had two great-granddaughters.
- I've upped my Pearl Jam concert total to twenty shows, including my last two at Wrigely Field. I was scheduled to see show twenty-one in Nashville in April; however, COVID...
- My wife and I have done some traveling, most noteably to small western European cities like Sligachan and Glencolumbkille that are hard to pronounce but easy to fall in love with.
- I'm still teaching full-time and playing roadie part-time, one of which has become infinitely harder during this pandemic while the other has been nonexistent for the past ten months. And it's not looking good going forward, either.
- Obama, and then Trump, and then who the hell knows. Regardless, the next three weeks are going to be great fodder for Saturday Nigh Live and twitter.
- I've been using the subordinating conjunction as a lot when I write. Like, a lot. I know. Super douchey.

So, overall, I'm a little older-growing into my dadbod quite nicely, and I'm getting grayer by the day, but I'm grounded...in a good way. And, at least according to my wife, I've mellowed in my middle age. I've learned to sit back, relax, enjoy my family and be more in the moment. I'm like a duck calmly wading in his pond, waiting for whatever is to come. (On a side note: ducks are calm on the surface but are paddling like Hell underneath. Serenity now-insanity later...)

I don't know what my intentions are going forward. Do I set a goal to post once a week? Monthly? Just music reviews or include personal items and editorials?

It seems like the older I get, the more I get left behind in the world of social media. Case in point: while I rarely post on Facebook, if I do, I know that my parents and our relatives and family friends are going to give me a "Like" or make a comment-I'm very popular with the Baby Boomers! On the other hand, my Millennial and Gen-X counterparts aren't as active. Are you on other social media sites, or am I not that interesting? (On a side note: if you comment on one of my FB posts, my mum will "Like" your comment. It's adorable. All of yinz should have a Pittsburgh Mom like mine.)

I could try to figure out a way to incorporate TikTok into my schpiel, but I fear that once I do, something newer and shinier will be created, and I'll again be left in the lurch.

Besides, my dance moves are akin to a baby deer taking its first steps shortly after birth and would most certainly drive away readers.

Also, how much time will I have to write going forward? Nothing screams "Dad of the Year" more than taking time away from family to write something only a handful of people are going to read. I mean, really-who do I think I am? Mickey Spillane?


Regardless, I'm going to try to write more in 2021. Even if it's not to publish, writing for me is therapeutic. It allows me to get what's in here out there. I think it's because I agonize over the written word and see my prose as a challenge. As an English teacher, I'm adamant about the writing process: I stress to my students that their first draft is to put pen to paper, to put ideas on paper as quickly as possible because they can (and will in my class) go back and edit and revise. "Perfection in the end!" is what I always say or at least intend to. On the other hand, I started this post at about 8:45 p.m. and will finish sometime after midnight. No rough drafts for this guy. Academic anxiety will kick in. Sleep will be lost.

I'm just like a duck...