"We're on the road now, boys..."
There's a hole in my heart; a tearing at my soul.
My mom died last month.
How's that for an introduction?
I am a writer, a journalist. I get paid to do this in real life. Writing is more of what I do, it is who I am. Writing is the sanctuary where I can think, react. That's why I've decided to blog. To share what comes out of my sanctuary - if anyone is interested - and to save my sanity.
Me? Well, I'm closing in on my 43rd birthday. I am married to a beautiful woman ("You're not going to put in a whole bunch of personal stuff about me, right?" she asks, nervously) and inherited two wonderful children in the process of getting married (four years in March). I have two dogs - Scully, our main dog, and Trinity, the auxiliary go-to action dog - and two cats (one of which loves me very much).
I am a writer/editor for a newspaper. I cover the outdoors, meaning I get paid to hunt, hike and fish (life is mostly good). I wrote a book this year (a hiking guide, best places to take your dog(s) without getting hassled).
Sounds idyllic, right?
I'm surly, much of the time.
Hey, look, it's not my life that gets me down. I think it was the way I was wired at the factory. I think too much. And thinking can be a real bummer.
This surface tension was rippled when my mom died in November. She was a rock, spoke her mind and didn't care what people thought of her. You lose something like that, it's bound to warp your already whacked sensibilities, right?
So, I'm going to blog. Hopefully, every day (writers write, it's how you get better). I'm going to open up my life (without giving up too much about my wife) and see where this takes me.
"The next thing most like living one's life over again seems to be a recollection of that life, and to make that recollection as durable as possible by putting it down in writing."
Ben Franklin said that, and he was a pretty smart guy.
My mom died last month.
How's that for an introduction?
I am a writer, a journalist. I get paid to do this in real life. Writing is more of what I do, it is who I am. Writing is the sanctuary where I can think, react. That's why I've decided to blog. To share what comes out of my sanctuary - if anyone is interested - and to save my sanity.
Me? Well, I'm closing in on my 43rd birthday. I am married to a beautiful woman ("You're not going to put in a whole bunch of personal stuff about me, right?" she asks, nervously) and inherited two wonderful children in the process of getting married (four years in March). I have two dogs - Scully, our main dog, and Trinity, the auxiliary go-to action dog - and two cats (one of which loves me very much).
I am a writer/editor for a newspaper. I cover the outdoors, meaning I get paid to hunt, hike and fish (life is mostly good). I wrote a book this year (a hiking guide, best places to take your dog(s) without getting hassled).
Sounds idyllic, right?
I'm surly, much of the time.
Hey, look, it's not my life that gets me down. I think it was the way I was wired at the factory. I think too much. And thinking can be a real bummer.
This surface tension was rippled when my mom died in November. She was a rock, spoke her mind and didn't care what people thought of her. You lose something like that, it's bound to warp your already whacked sensibilities, right?
So, I'm going to blog. Hopefully, every day (writers write, it's how you get better). I'm going to open up my life (without giving up too much about my wife) and see where this takes me.
"The next thing most like living one's life over again seems to be a recollection of that life, and to make that recollection as durable as possible by putting it down in writing."
Ben Franklin said that, and he was a pretty smart guy.
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