
My Cousin & San Francisco
622 Words. 2 Minute Read.
I used to travel to San Francisco a few times each year for pleasure. I had a cousin who lived there and would let me crash on her couch. She was an artist who lived among antique typewriters, old furniture, and knick-knacks that were as organized as they were eclectic.

Alone in Aspen
444 Words. 2 Minute Read.
The St. Moritz is sparse but comfy; the bedrooms have no televisions—just a chest of drawers, communal showers, and coffee in a 1980s lobby.


Graydon Carter, Pulp, and Delusion
655 Words. 2 Minute Read.
I proceeded to enjoy two cups of coffee, a bowl of Grape-Nuts, and a tall glass of pulp-free orange juice. It blows my mind that pulp is still an option. The fact that there are people who prefer waxy flakes in their orange juice is beyond all comprehension.

Pee-wee Herman & Savile Row
1,672 Words. 6 Minute Read.
Once upon a time, in a drab corporate office, I had a boss who was so stupid you could cram his brain up an ant’s ass, and it would bounce around like a BB in a boxcar. I tried like hell to cater to his many shortcomings—lack of humor topping the list—but Pee-wee’s inability to lead was too tall an order.