The BookHere are some of the recent columns you may have missed - or maybe you just want to read them again. Pick a topic from the menu at the left to zero in on a subject, or you can use the "search this site" box above to look for a particular keyword.

A lot of the older columns are no longer available online, but there is good news - you can get them all compiled in a neat little package, throne tested for your bathroom reading pleasure, in the book What I've Learned So Far... Part I: Bikes, Docks & Slush Nuggets. Right now you can get a 15% online discount if you enter the code Y8NYMDN4 in the "Options and Discounts" box when you check out.

The second volume, What I've Learned So Far... Part II: Angels, Chimps & Tater Mitts, will be coming out sometime later this spring.

The column below won the Erma Bombeck Award.

Now And Then


When I was a kid I had a sort-of girlfriend called Catnip Catie. Her name came from the fact that she always kept her personal supply of Whacky Wonder Weed hidden in her cat’s toys. Mind you, this was back in the olden days, before you could get a Prescription for legal Whacky Wonder Weed to treat your case of Restless Leg Syndrome. 

I met Catie working in the hospital, where she was a Licensed Practical Nurse and I was a Certified Bedpan Technologist. She was also an artist, so she painted peace signs, and flowers, and variations on those cool Keep On Truckin’ cartoon guys on my guitar. She lived in a very colorful little Catie-decorated house trailer parked out in a field behind an old gas station.

Catie didn’t turn out to be a huge part of my life. I knew her for a couple of years, then we drifted our separate ways. But sometimes, forty years later, I like to just shut my eyes, and drift back, and hang out for a while in Catie’s trailer, inhaling the scent of her patchouli, and her paint, and fresh coffee, and last week’s bacon, all laced with just a hint of Whacky Wonder Weed and kitty litter.

Siri & Me

I finally got an iPhone. Mind you, I didn’t get the trendy new iPhone 5 - the only model I could afford without hitting the lottery was a creaky old iPhone 4s. This means I will have to make do with a severely antiquated phone that lost its status as most advanced technology in the world nearly three weeks ago.

I had to replace my old smartphone, Kierkegaard, because his battery died, and it was going to cost me more to replace the battery than to get the new phone. Besides, Kierkegaard kept pushing me over my data plan by sending me an endless stream of text messages going on and on about stuff like “...truth as subjectivity,” or “...the fluidity of social identities”  - sometimes in Danish. I figured it was time to move on, before I snapped and went all Hegelian on him.

My new iPhone is pretty nice. No, let me be slightly more precise - this thing is the greatest material addition to my life since the day I discovered beer and barbecued ribs.


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