Wasting Away

Ed. note: I scribbled the following on Ritz Carlton stationary as Abbi and waited out our six hour delay in the Montego Bay airport. Somehow, when I was re-telling the tale of our engagement here in The Daily Journal, it didn’t seem to fit. So I share it with you here now. If there’s a…

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Close Your Eyes (And Start To See)

Sam said I buried the lead. The truth is, it was a double murder. The subject line read, “Benjamin Wagner Invites You To Rock And Muthafuckin’ Roll!” The details were as follows: Host: Benjamin Wagner Location: Rockwood Music Hall 196 Allen Street, New York City When: Sunday, March 25, 7:00pm Phone: 212-477-4155 Join Chris Abad,…

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How The West Was Won (And Where It Got Us)

I just got sidetracked by a flashback to November, 2004. Bush had just stolen another election. Heather had just been published. And I had just released “Love & Other Indoor Games,” moved to 80th Street, and hit rock bottom. I read those words now and shiver. I remember being That Guy. I remember finding myself…

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West Of The Fields

I don’t generally mind signing my name to checks, contracts and the like. I pretend I’m signing an autograph, and let the loops on the B, W, and G (which are the only distinguishable letters in my signature anyway) go wild. The wee hours of this morning, though, found Abbi and I scribbling our names…

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I Believe (When I Fall In Love It Will Be Forever)

She said yes. The question, it could be argued, was a long time coming. The concept, it could be argued, has inspired almost every song, every blog entry, and damn near every conversation prior to this one. For me, it was never a question of whether I’d get married; my parent’s divorce hadn’t sullied the…

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(Un)comfortably Numb

My clothes were in a pile at the foot of the bed. My wrist hurt, my stomach burned, and my head ached. And as I began to piece together the night before, I thought to myself, ‘I’ve got to fight back.’ I woke up on the couch. The room was dark. The clock read 5:19.…

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Twisting My Stomach Into Knots

“This is about who I am, what I’m worth, and what it all means,” I say. “Oh,” she replies. “Is that all?” I’m looking out the window of the 2, somewhere between Bergen and 79th Streets. Abbi and I have just spent a drizzly afternoon touring Brooklyn neighborhoods with my buddy Ron Lieber. A fifteen…

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Love Town

I’ve been a seriel dater since I was fifteen-years-old. But I’ve only been in love once. I could hear Jennifer screaming and moaning down the hallway at the Elizabeth Seton Birthing Center, but I still managed to doze off in front of “Cheers.” Could have been the beers. Could have been that it was well…

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Love Me If You Dare

I’m not sure I’ve ever really loved. Oh sure, I’ve said it a few times. And I’ve meant it. But lately, as I plumb these depth within myself, trying to figure out just what love is, and how to know it when I’m in it, and how to sustain it for a lifetime, I’m just…

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