Night Market

When I look over my shoulder to change lanes on the Leo Frigo bridge high above the bay, I see her  reaching over to smooth his long hair – my son’s girlfriend – and it’s as though he’s been cracked open and I’ve seen his heart beating for the first time. It’s crowded, so  we … More Night Market

22 Years Later

I. On the way up to the lake house, the back of the vehicle jammed with things of this earth: snacks, casseroles, a snowboard, three pairs of snow pants, a snow shovel for the ice rink, skates, sleeping bags, water, wine – and after passing barn upon barn, acre upon acre of crumbling stone and … More 22 Years Later


At Linneman’s RiverWest with McKenzie, my firstborn, who is somehow of age, beautiful, and strong, despite it all – we’re just one drink in, waiting for her boyfriend Zach to play, when I hit the ladies’ room — “I’m comin’ out!” the lady in the half-open stall shouts and so I pee behind the imperfectly … More Linneman’s