I’m coughing from the turmeric powder stuck in my throat from a chai latte from Harken Cafe in the French Quarter in Charleston, South Carolina…
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There was a man, hungover or drunk, on his bike on King Street in Charleston this morning that looked at me with recognition…
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One thing I miss most about my previous apartment is the Hello Tushy. There’s nothing quite like a clean bum. Now, and on the road, I’m forced to use toilet paper…
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Three years ago, after a much needed break from the world of tech and staring at computers, I moved to a Zen monastery in the Jemez Mountains of New Mexico…
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About eighteen years ago now, I moved to Williamsburg, Brooklyn, the epicenter of hipsterdom. And truth be told, I fit right in. I had facial hair, wore vintage clothes, liked things ironically…
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Fly fishing seemed fascinating for no other reason probably than that fly casting looked complicated and required that you stand in the middle of a river or creek.
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The difficulty I can see with writing a blog that might potentially continue to highlight restaurants and bars is that, well, I’ll spend all of my time eating and drinking booze.
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