Blog Posts

My mother met Mister Rogers on the beach behind her rental cottage. She was sitting in an old beach chair reading. Mister Rogers was taking his afternoon swim in Madaket Bay. The year after he died, I decided to preserve his memory (and entice my brother to bring his family to Nantucket the following summer)…

I’m holding down the fort at 1515 tonight, but I snuck over to Rockefeller Center an hour before the carpet opened. One word: chaos. Thing about Rock Center — unlike Miami’s American Airlines Arena — is that it’s a functioning office complex with a tourist destination built in. It’s crawling with people on an average…

There’s a lot going on: the day job (MTV News), the documentary (“Mister Rogers & Me”), the side project (Buckeye), the family (Bolsters, Wagners), and relationship (Abbi). Still, I can’t stop thinking about the next record. Of course, the occasional email (like the one I got from Lee in London last night — thanks Lee!)…

Most days, it takes a special kind of nincompoop to brave the Fairway Supermarket on 75th & Broadway. At the end of a twelve hour day it takes an absolute masochist. It’s not just that Fairway attracts septuagenarians like tornados to trailer parks. Worse, Fairway exerts some kind of stupidity tractor beam. Not only are…

“Priorities change,” she said. My father and his wife flew in from Indianapolis yesterday. They tallied exactly six and a half hours on the island Manhattan, six of which were spent in the company of their newest grandson, Edward, and his big brother, Ethan. One gets used to playing second fiddle to the grandkids. It…

My memory of the 452 miles of interstate between Toledo, Ohio, and Syracuse, New York, is desaturated and brushed with a Gaussian blur: gray concrete, barren trees, and generic hillsides. I drove that stretch dozens of times in college; my father lived in Toledo, my brother lived in Cleveland, and I lived in Syracuse. My…