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Walk A Way

April 24th, 2026

My dog Marvel is a terrible walking partner.

She takes forever.

Marvel sees a tree. She approaches it and stops us completely, disrupting our walk.

This forces me to take in my surroundings.

I notice for the first time how blue the sky is today. Some geese fly overhead and land on the sparkling pond down the hill from us. There’s a father and his young son fishing off the dock. I take a deep breath and start to taste every note of the sweet air as it passes through my nose and into my belly. Speaking of notes, I hear the harmony of wildlife play through the woods, the low hum of the cool wind and high sliding chirps of the black-capped chickadees. God’s most perfect creature, the squirrel, climbs down a tree and onto the trail to say hello. I wave back.

I’m reminded of the Buddhist texts I’ve been reading: be present in this moment, and in every moment. You never step into the same river twice and all that jazz. I look at Marvel and realize that we will never take this same walk again. We do not last forever. Change is the only constant; the only permanent thing is our impermanence. I get emotional. Tears fill my eyes as a woman walks past us cautiously, understandably, as I am a man in the woods.

I am close to enlightenment. I can feel the universe on the tip of my finger and tongue.

Then Marvel sees the next tree, and we walk a few feet more. We start the process again.

Maybe Marvel is a pretty good walking partner.

Maybe she’s the best.

For What It’s Worth

August 21st, 2026

I’ve cried during every episode of Ted Lasso.

Surprisingly, that is not the part of this post that I am ashamed to admit.

One of the main theses of the TV show Ted Lasso is the idea that we can all be better people, but also that we are already of the highest value by virtue of our against-all-odds existence. We can do good; we are already good.

The thing that gets me every time is that it reminds me of why I try so hard.

I am rarely any of these qualities, but I work so hard to be interesting and interested and kind and funny and sharp and helpful because, on the one hand, that is genuinely who I want to be; on the other hand, I need to be those things because there is a part of me that feels like I have fucked up more than any other human being ever, and I have to be those things if I am to be a person deserving of love and attention and friendship.

And the ironic part of this is that I know I am not alone, though I feel like the lone offender.

Every episode of Ted Lasso seems to unravel this feeling in me, in a really healthy and healing way. The characters treat each other like humans should and, when they don’t, they figure it out with honesty and dignity, and then love each other anyway.

Anyway. This sounds like a weird pitch for a show and I am so grateful that a group of people got together and made it. We’re living in a world that has found a way to devalue every single part of being human; it’s nice to see something that reflects how valuable every human being truly is.

Meditation Students Wanted

August 16th, 2026

Hey! I have a weird question to ask you!

Apparently, I’m the type who just wants to keep learning stuff: I’m now enrolled and working through a course to earn a certification in meditation teaching.

This is a practice that’s become an important part of my life and I want to be able to reach people who, like me, have had issues with meditation or are just looking for community; this is also a piece of a much bigger project that I’m not quite ready to share (but I’ll tell you all about it if you corner me in public).

In order to finish the program, I have to actually teach some meditation, which brings me to my question: who wants a free session?

You can choose from seven different mindful meditation practices:

• Mindful Eating
• Focused Attention and Open Awareness
• Mindfulness of Breathing
• Body Scan
• Mindful Walking
• Just Like Me
• Loving-Kindness Meditation

And you can do these sessions in a variety of ways:

• One-on-one: in-person, over the phone, or Zoom
• Part of a group: in-person or over Zoom

The sessions are completely free (it’ll only cost you some of your time, about 20 minutes per session). It will be a learning experience for the both of us. If you have any questions about any of it, please let me know! You can message me if you’re interested; I imagine I’ll start this process mid-September and start scheduling these appointments over a week or two.

I hope to hear from some of you!

At a Discount

August 12th, 2026

Last night at work we were talking about identity and it inspired me to come up with a scenario that a fifth-grader could clearly understand.

At our restaurant, we have a neat deal: if your name is Gary, you get 50% off your meal (up to $15 [this is not a paid promotion]).

I turned to a co-worker and asked: “Is your name Gary?” They shook their head no. I followed that up with: “Do you get the Gary discount?” They said no again.

It’s really that simple.

Identity is how you move through life. In a perfect world, it’s how the world sees you and how you see yourself. If your name is Steve, and you identify as Steve, and you turn your head when people say “Steve”, but you suddenly turn into Gary when a small discount is offered, that says more about you than it does society.

Because that’s one of the most frequent “jokes” I hear: “Well, what if I identity as a Gary today?” And then it makes sense: of course the kind of person who would lie about their own identify for some kind of benefit would think that other people are doing the exact same thing.

It’s almost like they’re telling on themselves.

Unlike a lot of MAGA, I actually have friendships I cherish with trans and non-binary people. And I can tell you one thing: at no point did being honest about who they are make their lives in society any easier. They did not get $15 off for being themselves. But it was still better than living a lie.

I have always said I have the utmost respect for people who dig down deep, who really reach as far as they can in the search for who they are. I’ve found that many people who lie, about identity or otherwise, are predatory and insecure; they lie to gain power, popularity, acceptance, all at the expense of those living authentically. You see it in politics and on barstools and online and anywhere people want to be loved but choose to be fake or insincere, preferring a false adoration to an honest respect.

Just a little food for thought. No discount necessary.

Spider-Man (and Men)

July 30th, 2026

The new Spider-Man film got me all up in my feels (and tears) today; I want to write a little about why it was so emotional for me (while trying not to spoil it, promise).

It’s no secret that Peter Parker is one of my favorite fictional characters of all time. If you’re new here, you missed the years where I regularly dressed up as Spider-Man for events (and occasional newspaper photo shoots with potential presidental candidates… it’s a long story). It’s not hard to relate to him: he’s a nerd who struggles through life but does so with humor, humility, and the sincere want to do good.

Spider-Man: Brand New Day has a lot of complex things to say but, for me, it really tackles the topic of what it means to be a man, whatever that designation means to you or the world around us.

It’s no secret that countless men of all ages are struggling; with identity, with purpose, with connection, with meaning. I don’t think this is new; I do think technology has made it worse. This film explores that in a way that’s novel and affecting; it also has big fights and spectacular special effects, if you need a break from those aforementioned feelings.

And speaking of a break: if you’ve read anything here recently, you probably noticed I’ve been sharing a lot of the Buddhist ideas I’ve been studying. These thoughts definitely have a different tone than some of my earlier posts. And maybe you’re thinking: so did you do it? Are you not angry anymore? Are you not anxious?

Hell no. I am just as angry and anxious as I’ve ever been. I’m still a recovering drunk. I’m still struggling with imposter syndrome and regret and not feeling as connected to my community as I want to be. I’m still compulsive with my phone.

But the Buddhism helps. It grounds me and gives me perspective and more tools to be better, to be kinder, to be more compassionate, to recognize that nobody does this life alone, which is another idea Spider-Man masterfully paints.

I’m sick of hearing that people are sick of comic book movies. They’re not. They’re sick of bad movies based on comic books. But, like comic books, these movies can be anything, any style and any genre, and they can be truly special. This one is (it really is), and I’m so grateful it exists. See it with people you love.

THEY’RE GR•R•REAT!

July 27th, 2026

“Be grateful to everyone.”

When I first heard this lojong slogan from Buddhist master Atisha, I thought: duh. It’s obviously good to be grateful; I have learned how to be grateful. In fact, finding and keeping gratitude saved my life.

But I was performing half the equation of gratitude. I was only grateful for the good things, the good times, the good people.

The line says: “Be grateful to everyone.”

That’s where the growth is.

When I encounter someone or something that frustrates me, that annoys me, that makes me angry or sad or drives me crazy, I’ve been trying to remind myself to be grateful for it all. This mindset is a game-changer, especially in the field of service.

This (totally annoying) person or event could teach (or reteach) me, an old dog, something important. To be more patient or open-minded or compassionate or all of the above and more.

I fail at it. I can name times I failed at it today, this week, this summer, this year and all the years before it. But I know the more I practice it, the more it becomes routine, a reflex, and the default way I deal with what I would have considered only problems and maybe not potential.

I know that boundaries exist for a reason, too. If we’re treated poorly, we shouldn’t ignore the behavior and solely search for the lessons; we don’t owe ourselves to anyone but we do owe ourselves the best.

When it comes to everything else: I’m trying to be grateful. To annoyance, to irritation, to heartbreak, to nonsense. Instead of avoiding them, I seek those cracks in the sidewalk in which to grow.

Sat

July 21st, 2026

A dragonfly convinced me that the decades I spent thinking I would never be able to meditate were wrong.

I’ve written about meditation several times here over the years and had repeatedly decided that it was basically stupid and not for me.

Turns out I’m just kind of stupid (story of my life) and I’m ecstatic to report that the reason I previously could not meditate is pretty simple: I’m lazy.

Now, “lazy” is not a term I use to describe myself often; I do work hard and do a lot (arguably, I do too much). But I thought that meditation was supposed to be an inactivity, a way to pull down the switch in my brain and nervous system to shut everything down for service.

Turns out, this isn’t how it works.

I just finished a book about the life of 13th century Zen Buddhist monk Eihei Dōgen. It was challenging af but I gained a lot, including the ability to sit. Dōgen spoke a lot about the practice of fully exerting oneself in every activity, in every moment. For example: eating. When you cook and eat, you should be present with every sense. Smell the garlic; taste the tumeric. And when you fully exert yourself in a moment, the universe shares in that moment with you. When you bathe yourself, you clean the universe, too.

This idea of exertion extends to sitting. Meditation is not the opposite of activity; it is something that requires presence and intense concentration in order to approach the kind of enlightenment that lives inside all living things. This isn’t a way I had heard meditation described before. So I started sitting this way. It’s hard. It’s rewarding.

This practice blew up for me in a beautiful way one day a few weeks ago when I took Marvel outside to poop.

While she was doing her business (exerting herself in a different way), I noticed a black dragonfly land on a blade of grass near my feet. I focused on the dragonfly and had an unexpected out-of-body experience. I could feel the entirety of nature, the trees and animals and sky; I could feel every person, especially the presence of my mom; I could feel all of time and the infinite universe, inside and outside of me.

It sounds very woo woo (because it kind of is), but it was a deeply spiritual moment for a person who has found most religion lacking. It connected me to this world and life in a relative and absolute way.

At the festival over the weekend, I was watching a set when a dragonfly landed on the shoulder of the guy standing right in front of me. A magnificent reminder to be in the moment, to use all of my senses, to be grateful to be alive, and to enjoy the show.

Minnesota Yacht Club 2026

July 20th, 2026

I’m exhausted (physically, emotionally, and heat), satisfied, and still basking in the afterglow of the third Minnesota Yacht Club Festival.

I didn’t attend the inaugural weekend in 2024 and experienced immediate regret. Last year, I went on Saturday because my favorite band Fall Out Boy (who wrote the song “Saturday”) were headlining that night. This year, I went all-in and bought a three-day pass. I didn’t go on Friday (which, from what I heard, is the best decision I made all weekend) but went all day Saturday and Sunday. I saw 19 artists I’d never seen live before and found something to love with each one.

I felt like Saturday was the stronger day overall. Every act brought their best and there wasn’t a bad set in the bunch. Matt and Kim were like a bomb constructed solely of energy drinks; I swooned over Jensen McRae and Lucy Dacus. I finally got to see All-American Rejects after being a longtime fan (one of the first songs my band The Next Step ever covered was “Swing, Swing” back in 2003) and they did not disappoint; frontman Tyson Ritter seems to know he has one of the best jobs on the planet and he was having a blast. Matchbox Twenty absolutely blew me away, a band surprisingly at the peak of their nostalgia-fueled power.

Sunday was more of a mixed bag, mostly because of technical issues I saw plague several sets (at one point, Die Spitz said “This is the worst set we’ve played in five years and we’ve only been a band for four years.”). But there were plenty of highlights and surprises; highlights included local legends Semisonic and Atmosphere, and Passion Pit was a surprise for me, an earnest and electric burst of energy late in the day. There is also an argument that Cage the Elephant could have headlined it all, with their strong set and loyal fans.

But I was there for one real reason, and that reason was The Strokes: one of my favorite bands of all time and one that has eluded me from seeing them in-person all this time. They came on late and left early and I wouldn’t change a thing about their set. They had the swagger and mystery and comedy and brilliant songs that have been a part of their DNA since the beginning and has mutated into part of my own genetic makeup.

Like I said last year, I don’t really have any notes for how the festival is run; I think they do an incredible job and it doesn’t really feel like 35,000+ people. I was disappointed, as a very sober and very thirsty person, that they had completely run out of the LOVE electrolyte drinks before Sunday began and there wasn’t really a substitute for them. I did, however, receive many free cans of cold LaCroix in a variety of flavors and I am grateful for that.

Another thing I’m grateful for? I remembered sunscreen this year. See you next.

Book Fair For Grown-Ups 2026

July 11th, 2026

The Book Fair For Grown-Ups and the Inbound Brewery team knocked it out of the park again. Despite the heavy heat, spirits I encountered were high and living their best Scholastic-coded lives. I took notes!

• The new space was warranted and much-appreciated. I sounded like an old man when I recounted last year’s event: “There was this many people on a day this hot in a room half this size!” But I was just saying it because this year felt relatively cool in comparison! (Also, when your administration is actively exacerbating climate change, its people reap what you sow.)

• One of the greatest joys of having written Theia is the countless opportunities I get to connect to animal lovers and, specifically, Boston Terrier owners. I got to see so many Bostons today! It’s such a gift. And we just about sold out of Theia so it’s time for a restock.

• I sold more copies of Maple Island today and any other single day since it was released last November. All you need is a sign that loudly displays the words “SEX” and “VAMPIRES” and you too can reinvigorate your writing career! But seriously: thank you for all the support on this smutty book that means so damn much to me.

• I shared with my visitors which audiobooks I’m working on so if you weren’t there, you’re square.

• I had so few familar friends to see today! It was scary! Shout out to Rio and Cait and Oz, though. You’re the best and you’re supposed to say something like “You’re always welcome on our podcast!” but you haven’t and it’s totally fine, I promise.

• Honestly, though? Maybe seeing new people is good. I love love love my home conventions, but it’s hard to have new things every time, and when I don’t have new things it’s easy for someone who already has it all to skip my table. I have never been a person who needs to sell stuff (I’m so bad at it, you guys) but, conversely, our tables do cost money and getting my work to as many people who might enjoy it is a lovely experience. Maybe I should get out of town for an event or two? Where should I go?!

Today was a movie (wait, a movie that was a book first?) and I’m so grateful to everyone involved. See you next year?

Don’t Think Twice

June 7th, 2026

As a born-and-raised Minnesotan and a self-taught musician, I made a solemn teenage vow to myself to see two artists live in concert: Prince and Bob Dylan.

I saw Prince in 2004; a manager at Chili’s had an extra ticket to one of his Musicology album release shows and invited little ol’ me and it was nothing less than life-affirming. Heck, I even saw Morris Day and The Time a few weeks ago at the new Mystic Lake Amphitheater.

Tonight, I finally saw Bob.

I was nervous; Dylan has put the miles on. I heard a review of one of his recent shows that described it as a form of elder abuse. Not real confidence-inspiring stuff.

But gosh: he opened his mouth and sounded just like Bob.

As the sun set behind the stage, he played keyboard and harmonica and sang words in the kind of way only Bob Dylan can sing them. Two songs in, a venue employee tapped me on the shoulder and asked if she could upgrade my ticket. I (literally) jumped at the chance and was whisked away down below where I could sit in a seat and actually see Bob for real, who was wearing a white jacket with the hood up (the entire time).

It was a sincerely enchanting experience, and absolutely worth the wait.

Oh! And no cell phones or photography were allowed. But, thankfully, I am a detail-oriented artist who drew this impeccable image as soon as I got home so you can feel like you were there, too.

I put an arrow on Bob so you know which one he is. Lucinda Williams and John Doe were so wonderful and subversive, as well.

I love my state and its music and its people and I got to soak in it (and the summer sun) on a pretty perfect day. It reminded me how grateful I am to be from here, be shaped by here, and get to live here.

Fight Song

July 3rd, 2026

I saw a t-shirt today that made me sad.

It also served as an important statement on the state of this country during our birthday this weekend.

The shirt itself was joyously racist and aggressively obnoxious; in other words, it well-represented the administration and its supporters. It’s not always a shirt; sometimes it’s a hat or a bumper sticker or a viral tweet. There’s still (always) a lot of discussion about what divides us, but this was a good reminder of one of the clear and obvious differences: some of us fight for things, and some of us just fight against them.

I’d argue we’re at our best when we stand up for ourselves, for our values, beliefs, ideals, communities, and the people we love and care about; we’re at our worst when we incessantly and viciously attack, insult, and denigrate one another or whole groups of human beings.

This sounds like the kind of polite manners and mutual respect we used to teach children by example, but I have never seen adults this openly abusive and abrasive in my life, and as quick to flop and cry foul when the same crass techniques are turned around and pointed their way.

When you squint and see through all the bad behavior, however, you start to realize something: there isn’t anything these people are fighting for. It’s just a bunch of bullshit they’ve been brainwashed with to incubate fear and hate.

It’s something I think about all the time. When I get angry or become critical, I ask myself: what am I fighting for? And if I can’t answer that question honestly, then I realize I’m a sucker getting caught up in the mob, too. I’m human. It happens.

But it’s a question worth asking yourself, over and over and over. It’s the question that led to the birth of this country. And it’s a question that, once it dies, takes life and liberty and happiness and hope with it.