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The balloons were Trojan Horses, really, or slight of hand at best; mere diversions intended to lure the children closer before handing off a pamphlet to the smiling parents gently instructing, “What do you say?” Once in Ethan and Edward’s hands, the shiny, green and orange West Side YMCA helium balloons trumped all of the…

I spent this afternoon tracking vocals on my cover of The Nadas “Feels Like Home” for the band’s forthcoming tribute record. I don’t know what I was thinking. Mike Butterworth hits a superhuman high note in the chorus, one I can only nail consistently in falsetto. I’ve seen him hit higher notes on a radio…

I’m pretty sure it’s the oldest thing I own: a tattered, No. 80, nine-inch, horsehide-covered, cork and rubber-centered regulation baseball with with seven faded words written in capital letters: 1981 Pinto North All-Star Ben Wagner. I hit the first RBI in that all-star game, a triple. It was a scorching-hot July Fourth at Ridgeland Common…

Who needs the self help section at Barnes & Noble? I have an iPod. I don’t need to tell you that last week was a motherf*cker. I’m sure I’m not alone in that. Ask John Edwards, Manny Ramirez, or Allison Iraheta. They all had tough weeks. Heck, ask anyone on Earth these days: economic meltdown,…

Sunday afternoon, long after the hangover recovery run, the ham, egg and cheese sandwich, the last cup of coffee and final page of The Sunday New York Times, Abbi and I sat on the couch channel surfing. In my experience, asking my wife if she wants to watch a documentary tends towards a gentle “No…

One never knows how a four o’clock rock show is going to turn out. We’re not talking the Iowa State Fair here. We’re talking New York City on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Ends up it’s one heck of a time to rock. Chris Abad and I booked the show months ago not because four o’clock…