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Latest from the Blog
Morning Walk: Listening to Donna Jean Godchaux, Thinking About the Dead
Winterland, San Francisco, October 24, 1969: I was on the first day of my period and headed for the restroom in the packed arena. I had made it as far as the end of my row, excusing myself over and over as I stepped carefully over other people’s feet, when a man I didn’t know…
From Prudhoe Bay to Chicago: Still Walking, Yes, Indeed
After virtually walking the Pennine Way, following Simon Armitage’s route from north to south—a rugged but manageable hike—I was ready for something longer, some magnificent digression that would last for years and encompass all the twists and turns of my imagination. I was ready for the walk of walks. Perhaps the Pan American Highway? A…
On the Day Of My Brother’s Birth
On the day of my brother’s birth, I woke up in my grandmother’s brass bed to the sounds of a whispered conversation in two different languages, both of which I understood, sort of. My grandmother, my vovó, had already gotten up, and I had the whole double bed to myself. When I say it was…
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I don’t know what a jetpack is. If I put it on my back, will I be able to fly to the moon? I think I might like the moon.
I Never Meant To Sail So Goddam Far 