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My iPod crapped out on me this morning just a few steps past Starbucks. I realized just how valuable my headphones are when I was immediately assaulted by The Voice. I ran into my neighbor on the 79th Street subway platform. She said, “I think I’m going to interview The Shout Out Louds for a…

My father called my brother who called my neighbor who knocked on my door. “You ok?” I’m ok. But I’m hiding in plain sight. The last few Daily Journal entries kinda’ signal that. I’m not saying much. I’m not being dishonest, but I’m certainly not being vulnerable. I made it out this weekend — I…

The following questions are ripped from the pages of New York Magazine. The answers are mine. In the new season of The Apprentice, the two teams are divided into “street smart” versus “book smart.” What sort of books left an impression on you? I remember swallowing tons of ocean water when I was a little…

The year is 1989. I am seventeen-years-old. I am the front man of my first band, Neoteric Youth. I am performing for all of Conestoga High School. I am wearing a pink REM t-shirt, off-white Dockers, purple Converse All-Stars, a Mickey Mouse wrist watch, and tortoise shell I Ski sunglasses. I am stoned. The event…

I had plans with an ex last night — The Ex — but she cancelled. She — let’s call her Anna — and I dated for three years in college. In a lot of ways, ours was the last relationship I got right. It’s been ten years. Anna and I met at my first performance…

I got to bed late, and woke up a bunch of times. In the darkest hours of night, the cold front blew in. My rooftop bedroom is little more than three flimsy walls and a sliding glass door. So when the wind began whipping the rain against my windows, I could practically feel it. It…

Short of high school stories, or event-based blogging, I have nothing for you. I watched “We Don’t Live Here Anymore” last night. It was well acted, but excruciating. Especially the scene when Mark Ruffalo’s kids jump up on his bed and say, “Is mommy leaving?” That was too close to home. Worse, though, was the…

The early ’80s were tough for my family. My parents were recently divorced. My mother moved Chris and me one thousand miles away from my father. They both spent inordinate energies spewing venomous comments at one another. Money was tight. My mom and I shared a pair of Nikes. And my jeans were rejects from…

I was chastised by a colleague yesterday for returning to “event based” journal entries instead of the more introspective posts I’ve been writing of late. I hate the “I did this then I did that” blog as much as the next guy. I didn’t really mean to write any of that sorta’ thing this weekend.…