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I’m the worst. I have a wicked cool wristwatch. I always feel dressed up when I’m wearing it (which is always), even if I’m in pajama bottoms, a t-shirt and flip flops. Plus, it keeps terrific time. I have five clocks in my 800-square-foot apartment: one in the living room, one in the kitchen, one…

I’ve had the same mic stand for fourteen years. It’s seen plenty of action prior to its current incarnation as the foundation of my new home studio. It’s a boom mic stand. It was purchased in 1990 with money earned by my college band, Smokey Junglefrog. We were paid to stealthily set up in the…

“Gosh, I don’t remember when last time I saw you was,” she said. “I don’t either,” I replied, “But I’m pretty sure we were making out.” I met my long-time friend Jen for dinner last night. We went to high school together back in the Eighties (ha ha). Actually, I crashed her meal with a…

I disconnected my phone today. For good. Let’s be honest, the traditional LAN line doesn’t really serve much of a function anyway. I mean, no one calls me on it but telemarketers. And now that I’ve joined the 21st Century with my cellphone and internet broadband connection, well, let’s just say Verizon’s lost another customer…

It’s Sunday night. The sun has set. And I seem to have squandered my weekend. ‘Treasure of the Sierra Madre’ is paused on the DVD player. Dinner (mixed greens with pine nuts, sunflower seeds, tofu, garbonzo beans, and a hard boiled egg) is gone. I made the requisite paternal communique. I spent time in Central…

Dear Mr. Vernon: We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it is we did wrong, but we think you’re crazy for making us write an essay telling you who we think we are. John Hughes bottled the cultural zeitgeist of teen angst before it turned midnight…