My racist aunt

My mom’s older sister was a wonderful, kind woman who loved to laugh and always found joy in “the little things” as she liked to say, amidst the constant, debilitating pain she suffered at the hands of an insidiously severe form of rheumatoid arthritis for decades. In 1993, when I was sixteen, I travelled from Oklahoma to my hometown in Michigan to stay with my … Continue reading My racist aunt


I often wonder, when someone speaks very casually about a deer they shot and gutted, or some farm animal they castrated, or anything of that nature, How can they do that? When I was a kid, I had a pet mouse named Charlie who escaped and started fucking shit up all over the house. My parents were like “screw this” and set traps, which I … Continue reading Desensitized

Artists don’t owe you anything

I recently watched a YouTube vid in which an obnoxious metalhead rants and raves about how horrible Darkthrone’s latter day punk and nwobhm-infused records are. He seems genuinely angered by the band’s decision not to craft albums suited to his specific tastes. The thing is, artists are under no obligation to please fans. If they’re not pleasing themselves and following their respective muses, they aren’t … Continue reading Artists don’t owe you anything

Who was this? Part 2

I have no idea who this was, and neither do you. I doubt anyone still living could tell you and neither could dead people who might know because they’re dead and they can’t talk. This kid lived a life. He probably went on to fight in a war and raise kids and spoil their kids. Someone’s dad, someone’s husband, someone’s grandpa… And now no one … Continue reading Who was this? Part 2

I survived a forest fire.

Oscoda, Michigan, May 2, 1984: thick black smoke loomed on the horizon, and all of the grownups seemed really nervous. Naturally, the kids followed suit, because children generally tend to cling to the belief that adults are in control of things, until suddenly it is revealed that they are not. So here I am, 7 years old, being babysat at a neighbor’s house down the … Continue reading I survived a forest fire.

Men don’t compliment each other enough.

Today at the grocery store an old man wearing a veteran hat(didn’t catch which war)told me “nice beard.” I didn’t understand him at first, I thought he’d said something about beer. “What?” “Nice beard, he said, stroking his own gray, distinguished facial mane. “Thank you,” I said, finding myself breaking into an involuntary grin. He smiled and nodded and walked away. And it didn’t strike … Continue reading Men don’t compliment each other enough.