Tag: routine

  • What’s Missing?

    I’ve never considered myself much of a chef. I don’t julienne. I don’t chiffonade. I don’t make foams, reductions, or anything that requires tweezers.  But a cook? Now that’s a title I’d proudly wear. When I’m cooking, I really only have one goal; Make enough food that everyone leaves the table full, preferably smiling, and…

  • On the Honor System: How Are We All Still Alive?

    Civilization has a dirty little secret. It only works because, for the most part, we trust each other. Have you ever stopped and realized just how much of everyday life runs on the assumption that complete strangers are going to behave themselves? Not because they have to. Because they’re supposed to. That’s an important distinction.…

  • Muscle Memory

    For the longest time, I’ve worn my hair in what could best be described as a modified buzz cut. All clippers, no scissors. A style that lives somewhere between “civilian trying to look presentable” and “Marine Corps recruiter might nod in approval.” Never quite a full high-and-tight, but close enough that nobody would accuse me…

  • Job Title: Yes (Other Duties as Assigned)

    There isn’t a single human being on this floating rock hurtling through space who has managed to live life playing only one role. Not one. If you know such a person, please let me know. I’d like to study them. Strictly for academic purposes, of course. Not because I suspect they’re an alien trying very…

  • No Wi-Fi, No Agenda, No Problem — Doing Nothing and Loving It

    There used to be a time when “doing nothing” was actually doing something. You’d see it everywhere. A man sitting on the front porch after work, coffee cup in hand, staring at absolutely nothing and somehow thinking about everything. A grandmother on a porch swing, watching the world pass by at a speed slow enough…

  • The Meta Standoff at Calexico High School

    It was high noon at Calexico High. Not the romantic kind of high noon with tumbleweeds rolling past the cafeteria and someone whistling a Morricone soundtrack.  No. This was the modern version. The sun hung over campus like it had a personal grudge. Heat shimmered above the blacktop. The halls were quiet. Somewhere in the…

  • Pieces of Eight

    Education has been my formal career for the last twenty-seven years—but teaching? That’s something I’ve been doing since.. geez I can’t even remember. Coaching, community art classes, day camps… if there was a group of people and a semi-organized activity, I was probably in charge of it. Not officially, of course. Just… spiritually. Looking back,…

  • The Longest Day – Sanitized, Signed In, and Socially Distanced

    I’ve had long days before. I mean, who hasn’t. Everyone has a horror story or two about work, some more drink worthy than others. A friend and I were recently comparing notes over coffee, as one does when caffeine doubles as a therapist. The conversation inevitably twisted itself around the question: who had the longest…

  • A Little Bit of Us in Everything

    I saw this quote today, and it resonated with me deeply:“We are writers, my love. We don’t cry. We bleed on paper.”I have no idea who wrote it, but it hit me anyway. As a creator—writer, musician, photographer, cook—it applies across the board. Our emotions are always on display through our work. Not always overtly,…

  • Kinder Chronicles, Room 3, 1974

    Teacher’s log, Kinder Day 31 I used to think I was in charge. That illusion lasted exactly four minutes on the first day of school—right up until Little Tommy licked a purple marker, declared it “grape,” and asked if we had any crackers to go with it. We did.We always had crackers. Kindergarten, in those…

  • Between Me and Myself

    Sometimes the quietest conversations are the ones we have with ourselves.They come in fragments—moments of memory, glimpses of people we’ve loved, the echo of a voice we thought we’d lost. This is one of those conversations. It started with a dream, a few small visits from my mom, a song that kept coming back, and…

  • Freedom on Two Wheels

    Back in the day, a bicycle was freedom. It was far more than a way to get from here to there. We treated our wheels the same way our dads and big brothers treated theirs. Well… at least I did. I grew up watching my old man in the driveway on weekends, tinkering with his…

  • Why I Create…

    Sitting with myself this morning, coffee in hand, I asked, “Why do you create?” …and the reflection in the mug stared back, quiet, like it already knew the answer before I did. “Why do you create?” I asked again, slower this time, letting the words curl in the warmth of the coffee steam. And the…

  • A Curious Observation…

    Messaging on multiple platforms… something a little different on each… but somehow threaded together. An interesting way to connect. It’s fascinating—and honestly, pretty human. Different platforms invite different versions of us. A text might be quick and practical. A voice note carries tone and warmth. A social post might lean reflective or curated. Even timing…

  • Fire and Grace

    There are things that will make you angry. You’re human. It’s inevitable. Something, somewhere, sometime is going to piss you off. It’s going to happen. What really matters is how you respond. I was faced with that today. Let me provide a little context. Like countless others, I’m susceptible to outside forces—things that can alter…