Timeline

My cursor is blinking as I ponder some summation, understanding, or meaning, from my five days back home in the Middle West. I’m not sure there is any. Except that Waterloo, Iowa, is a long way from New York, New York. If you take a left out of the parking lot of the Country Inn…

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Top Five Answers

I rode 80 miles today. When I tell you that my ass is sore, I’m talking about a kind of ache that, unless you’ve sat on a bike for six hours a day for two days, you’ll never know. It rained all day. I rode alone. What does one do on a bike for six…

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The Hills Of Iowa

There are hills in Iowa. They are rolling ribbons of green and brown topped by rows of soy beans and corn stretching off in every direction. They are capped by an endless sky, and traversed by roads that go on forever. I’m sitting on my cousins’ couch in North Liberty, IA. Inside, three generations of…

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The Leaving

My friend Ken is reading the 9/11 Commission Report. He and I watched Tower Two fall from the window of our office at 8th Street. I distinctly recall the look on his face as we parted company that morning into the unknown State Of Manhattan. We’ve discussed the resulting ramifications, war(s), and our thoughts, hopes,…

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The Space Between

I’m the kind of guy whose apartment is in impeccable order: the bed is made, the CDs are alphabetized, and the desk is arranged just so. But take a peak under the couch, and you’ll find a gleeful colony of tantric dust bunnies rolling over on another. And so it will come to no surprise…

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All About Us

Rock music is ruining my life. The good news is, I think I’ve finally gotten a handle on this whole home recording thing. The bad news is, I’ve spent 20+ hours on in front of my laptop this weekend recording ONE FUCKING SONG. Behold: ‘Caramelize.’ It happened like this. I had some time to kill…

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Honky Tonk Blues

Note to self: 3:30 a.m. is not an appropriate weekday in-time for an adult. And Breyer’s strawberry ice cream with a Gatorade chaser is not an acceptable preemptive hangover cure. I’m just in from The Smith Family show at Hank’s in BK. Not the easiest commute: car service to gig ($40), cab back to Union…

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Leftovers

Walking to the subway from Smith Family rehearsal last night, I thought had it all figured out. I’d pick up a Sapporo from the corner store, order in some sushi, and have a quiet night with the tele. Alas, it was not to be. It was to be an evening of leftovers. Seems that in…

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Homecoming King

American Airlines Flight #2110 is cruising at an altitude of 37,000 feet somewhere in the skies just northeast of Raleigh Durham. I am in seat 21J, wedged between an elderly Latino couple whose snoring even Keane can’t drown out. I’m almost home. This morning’s helicopter ride was a bust. Despite my colleague’s best efforts to…

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Into Miami

I’m in the epicenter of American Club Culture with my MTV News colleagues and we spent our evening partying … at The Radisson. I spent the balance of my Monday in transit. Better living through chemistry made takeoff, flight, and landing painless. My knuckles were far from white. In fact, I slept through everything, including…

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