Essays from an american mutt

America loses

I stood in my kitchen. I was tenderizing chicken. Beating the holy hell out of it. Destroying it, really. I turned to my wife who sat at the counter with her laptop. I yelled....

The kid you’ll never hear about

The gunfire started about the time we reached Field 4. Rat-tat-tats, small arms, over and over again. We were there for baseball practice. A sunny day in September. Mid-70s, blue sky, light breeze, and...

The happiness blur

My older son turned nine a few weeks ago, and I have no idea what my wife and I gave him as presents. There was a closetful of gifts. I know that much. And...

First day jitters

I wasn’t even leaving the house, and I was terrified. The boy wore a “Phineas and Ferb” t-shirt, plaid shorts, and his new sneaks. He had a fresh haircut and a new backpack. A...

One American’s flow chart

I am not an activist. I am not a revolutionary. I’m a dad of two American boys. *** Imagine this: somebody thinks you did something wrong. Let’s say it’s your old boss at Flaco’s...

So many kids…

“I see so many kids that love being writers more than they love writing.” —Scroobius Pip I could probably count to a hundred, but if you’d asked me, I would’ve told you there were...

The stillness of an 8-year-old’s chest

I looked down on the ground. In the grass sat a little plastic coin, scuffed and scratched from little-boy cleats that had walked over it on the way to home plate. “Caught doing good,”...

Thank you, Mike Rice

Former Rutgers basketball coach Mike Rice is at best a very confused and disturbed human being. He is at worst a psychopath in need of inpatient treatment. Today, I suggest we should thank him...

Assigning freedom

You want your freedom, do you? I know you do, because you post about it on Facebook, and you talk about how the government better not come and try to take it from you....

Fate’s reprieve

I can’t boil it down to 140 characters. I don’t know why I feel compelled to even consider doing that. Maybe it’s the cook in me who knows that a well-simmered pot will eventually...

Ode to Black Dog

There’s this black dog in my house. Let’s call her Black Dog. She’s been here for two weeks, and I just told my wife to say her goodbyes. *** I absorbed my old dog’s...

8 seconds

So, here’s a story. On January 8, 2003, my phone rang just as I was getting up for work. A plane had tried to take off from Charlotte, NC bound for my home airport,...

A New Year’s wish

My three-year-old son just fell asleep on my chest. It’s gray outside, spitting little wet snowflakes and rain on cold ground. It’s the kind of weather that makes you sleepy no matter how much...