1,794 Words. 7 Minute Read.

I’ve spent twenty years building a business whose odds of succeeding were one in a billion.

475 Words. 2 Minute Read.

I want to feel Duane and Dickey’s git-tars glide through my brain like a hawk in a thermal … while booze poisons my bloodstream.

445 Words. 2 Minute Read.

Every artistic cell in my body is suffocating. I’ve deteriorated into a myopic lunatic, an animatronic milquetoast obsessed with work.

1,940 Words. 8 Minute Read.

A friend from high school recently became a mailman in his mid-forties. My first thought was, “That lucky son of a bitch.”