The Answer Is 42

Well, it’s here. This week, I attain the magical age of 42, which according to scriptures means I’ll finally have the answer to life, the universe, and everything. The problem, of course, is that no one knows what the question is. I guess that comes later, because I have no fucking clue. What I do

Feeling Like a Million

For anyone who’s been reading this blog over the last several years, you probably know my wife and I haven’t had the smoothest transition to Philadelphia. We moved mid-pandemic, and by the time the city opened back up, we were already settled into our insular lifestyle. Then my father died and my mom got very

Christmas with Mom

So last week, I wrote something that I like. And to no surprise, I didn’t get much time to work on it this past week, and as a result, it’s not quite ready for publishing. My wife and I flew from Kansas to Florida so we could spend some time with my mom this holiday

What Kind of Day Has It Been

Well, it’s finally here. After months and months of time away, I’m finally getting ready to return to life in Philadelphia. This time next week, I should be writing my blog post from the warm embrace of our apartment rather than the hot and humid grasp of Florida, and that thought alone fills me with

Run Frank Run III: The Rerun

I’m 40, and that means something. Yes, more and more people say things like “40 is the new 30!” or “Age is just a number!” or “I’m not old, you’re old! Shut up and go to hell!” But the longer I spend in this (over)ripening body, the more I come to realize that age is