In eighth grade, something in me broke that would affect me for years. Two somethings actually: my tibia and my spirit. A weekend before Thanksgiving, I was running an obstacle course on the primary-colored playground of the local elementary school with my dad and my brother. We’d wandered there together with the intention of spending […]Read more "When the Leg Breaks"
I’m not a good flyer. I’m too tall and too broad and the only way flying is comfortable is if I’m on an exit row or seated in First Class—something I’ve been able to swing only once. It was a last minute flight and for some reason, the First Class ticket price and the back-of-the-plane-where-the-turbulence-will-make-you-queasy […]Read more "Planes, Trains & Automobiles"