Since I’ll be out with the band the next two nights, did a quick recording of “Guitar Girls,” an essay about singing with my daughters that began as a Tent Show Radio monologue then wound up in this book. The Olivia sticker is on one of my guitar cases. My daughter put it there years…View post
Writing, rainy. Outside the window, Mama cardinal with two babies. They’re big as her and pecking but still she feeds them. Adolescents.
Reading Roxane Gay’s “Bad Feminist,” I respect and resonate with this line from the acknowledgements: I’m hoping my parents don’t read this book, but they are beloved and have made all things possible. Each of my “adult” books include a similar thank you: First and foremost, to my parents—anything decent is because of them, anything else…View post
I wrote this piece after listening to a Brandi Carlile* concert. Today as I pulled away from the curb after delivering my daughters to school, I thought of it again. I have two daughters. So including my wife, at my house it’s three-to-one girls against boys. A fellow I met recently on the road told me,…View post
This is what happens when you forget to close the garage door overnight and there is road salt residue on the floor: Actually, I kinda envy his way of dealing with trouble. Hide your face and act prickly. When I was little we had a similar situation. My dad tossed his cap on the porky’s…View post