A few people wrote to ask if a big fight between my wife Cat and me is what caused me to pen True Love: The Cruise Ship That Can’t Stay Afloat. I totally appreciate any concern ever shown me by any of my readers—it’s just the sweetest thing—but can you imagine? First you publish a major love paean to your spouse (um, in this case being You Want Me To Emote About My Wife? Fine! Here It Is!), and then... Read more
In the past, and particularly recently (with You Want Me To Emote About My Wife? Fine! Here It Is!), I’ve written about how in love I am with my wife Cat, and what a wonderful relationship we have and all that. But just to be clear: I fully comprehend that while love can be a many spendored thing, it’s prone to becoming a many splintered thing. (Get it? Didya catch the word play? That right there’s why I make the... Read more
I’m every day aware that when I die I will do so having in the course of my life been truly known by exactly one person. I have a terribly slight relationship with my father, less of one with my older sister, and haven’t seen or spoken with my mother in thirty-five years. I don’t know any of my grandparents, aunts, uncles, nieces, or nephews. The work I do I do alone. I have no children. What I have is... Read more
Cat’s radiologist reports that he saw no evidence of cancer on Cat’s M.R.I. She has some other stuff wrong that taken together presented exactly like cancer—but it’s not! The stuff that is wrong can be fixed. We’re not even worried about it. So we’re good! If you read yesterday’s post (5 Words That Completely Explain Why Men Hate To Talk About Their Emotions), you’ll understand why, when it comes to expressing what the supportive thoughts and prayers of hope you sent... Read more
It keeps their emotions pure. (By which I mean that men tend to sort of instinctively think that talking about their emotions can only degrade those emotions.) Read more
This, to me, is about as funny as five minutes can possibly get. See also my really pretty much entirely hilarious Go to Work as The Twelve Days of Christmas. Read more
(Last night, having fallen asleep while worrying about my wife having cancer, I dreamed I was a big deal television talk show host, and that my guest that night was Death.) Me: Welcome to the show. Death: Thanks! It’s great to be here. Me: I hate you. Death: Excuse me? Me: I mean, I hate you haven’t made a movie in so long. I guess you’ve got one out now, though. What’s it called? “Annie Hell”? “Singing in the Pain”?... Read more
They say beauty is only skin deep. But thank God for that quarter-inch of skin. Because right beneath it lies a packed, jumbled mass of mess a starving vulture wouldn’t eat cold. You can just imagine God, having finished the basic design of humans, saying, “Yikes! Okay, if we expect humans to reproduce, we’ve gotta put some kind of wrapping around this sack. Either that, or let’s remove the eyeballs.” On Friday my wife Cat got an M.R.I. You know... Read more
I’m sitting inside a dinky Starbucks. About eight people are standing in line for fancy joes. It’s a baking 95 degrees outside. A woman—30ish, cut-off jeans, sleeveless tee—just burst into the store and called out, “Hey! Does anyone in here have a car out there with four kids in it?” No one replied; everyone just did the “Nothing Scary or In Any Way Weird is Happening Here” freeze. I’m tucked into a corner, so no one can see me anyway.... Read more
A reader wrote to me of her disdain for the Christian concept of original sin. “I do not subscribe to the Christian concept of original sin,” she said. “This concept has humans born as damaged goods, not pleasing to God.” For all those who don’t know, when Christians refer to babies being “born into sin,” or to the “fallen state” of mankind, what they should be referring to is the simple truth that without exception every human being is born with... Read more
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