Blog Posts

There’s a modest little bar on 82d and Amsterdam called The Dead Poet. Even before I moved to the Upper West Side in 2004 and began to consider it my neighborhood hang, I was a fan of the place. I found it online some years ago searching for a location to celebrate my brother Christofer’s…

I managed to sneak out of the office just after seven o’clock last night. 46th Street was teeming with tourists awash in smoke from a dozen gyro grills on account of the Taste of Times Square festival. I took to Eighth Avenue, skirted a cab, dodged a bus, and headed west. I was listening to…

I gave Ethan his first guitar when he was just six-months-old. It was a bright red wooden thing; a bit more than a toy, but less than a real acoustic guitar. A bit overzealous? Perhaps. And that says nothing of the bongos, the piano, or the maracas I gave him — all before his first…

Sometimes songs come easily. I woke up from an afternoon nap around two o’clock (late night at Alphabet Lounge) with a dog eared copy of Ben Fong Torres’ Gram Parson biography, “Hickory Wind,” at my side, and heard a melody with the line “If you’re goin’ back to L.A., tell my father I said hello”…

A coupla’ months ago, when Chris emailed me and asked if I wanted to play a show, I was all, like, “Sure!” I figured he and I would hook up with Tony and Ryan and do our thing: his songs, my songs, Buckeye — whatever. Then we found out that Vaughnathon was double-booked. And I…

There are four kinds of ice cream in the fridge: Breyer’s All Natural Vanilla, Breyer’s Slow Churned Fat-Free Vanilla, Ben & Jerry’s Mint Chocolate Cookie, and Sharon’s Coconut Sorbet. Ok, so one’s sorbet, but still: I would never have had four kinds of ice cream in the fridge as a bachelor. Four! We’re watching Kathy…