“The sea-shore is a sort of neutral ground, a most advantageous point from which to contemplate this world.” — Henry David Thoreau Acadia, you are a stunner. #travel

left a bit of my brother and dad in costa rica. ¡pura vida! 🌴

cheers, costa rica 🇨🇷

at a party recently, i realized how little i watch tv when the entire conversation became “do you watch…?” and “have you seen…?” i hadn’t even heard of a single show. i homer simpsoned my way out of that group and found another. even when my tv is on, it’s mostly background noise. probably a habit you pick up when you’re one of ten kids and noise feels comforting.

i’ve been packing running clothes and sneakers for every trip for years, at the expense of 30% of my luggage space. my siblings used to mock me because they were rarely used back then. but now i feel naked without them. my size 13s even have their own backpack.

i just had a cool dream. i was walking toward the beach in wildwood crest. it was one of those nights where everything is quiet except the ocean somewhere off in the distance. as i passed under one of the old incandescent street lights, i noticed this pickup truck parked by itself. it was a very deep, dark green. decades of rust had turned it into the most beautiful patina i’d ever seen. it looked like time itself had painted it. then i heard it. the most beautiful singing i’ve ever heard. i slowed down and started walking toward the truck. every step made the harmony a little clearer. it wasn’t a song i recognized. it felt… new. like i was hearing it for the first time and somehow had known it forever. when i got to the driver’s window, there sat an older john prine with an acoustic guitar across his lap. he looked over at me without missing a beat, smiled, and gave me that unmistakable little wink while he kept singing. the guy next to him looked familiar, but i couldn’t place him. he was more in the shadows than john. then he sang a solo line. “holy shit…” it was leon russell. not old leon. younger leon. long hair, beard, somewhere right in his prime. the two of them were sitting shoulder to shoulder on one of those old bench seats made for three people, but they were so close together they looked like two buddies who had been making music their whole lives. i just stood there. mouth hanging open. eyes wide. i don’t think my feet were even touching the ground anymore. i felt impossibly light. the harmony between them didn’t sound human. it sounded like whatever music is supposed to sound like before it gets here. when the song ended, i finally remembered how to breathe. i started clapping. “holy moly… can i get a picture with you guys? nobody is ever going to believe me.” john laughed. “of course.” i snapped the picture, lowered my camera (oddly not a phone), and just shook my head. “man… if only my dad could see this.” john’s smile disappeared. he looked right at me with one eye half closed, almost like he was letting me in on a secret. “son… now take another look at this truck.” i took a few steps backward. that’s when it came into focus. it wasn’t just an old pickup. it was black beauty. or at least that’s what my dreaming brain knew it was. my dad’s old beat-up truck. the one with that incredible weathered paint and rust that somehow made it even prettier instead of worn out. in the almost cinematic street light, the black paint looked deep green. before i could even process it, john grinned again. “he’s just inside grabbing us some beers.” my heart absolutely stopped. and then i exclaimed before i could think, “oh no! the kegerator!” john and leon looked at each other and burst out laughing “HE TOLD US ABOUT THAT!” leon said, “he’ll get it right this time kid.” with a hearty laugh. our house was way down at the other end of the street, so i asked if i could just wait. “mind if i hang around until he gets back?” they smiled, nodded, and started the chords to another angelic melody. leon took the lead this time. i laid down in the grass next to the truck, listening to the two of them sing under that lone street light while the ocean sat somewhere behind us, adding the chorus in its rhythmic drum. and somewhere during that song… i drifted back to sleep. when i opened my eyes again, i was in my own bed.

wow. what a crazy powerful 30-45 minute storm. i went into the basement because it felt like a tornado brewing. videos are from before the body-shaking thunder and lightning symphony. been without power since 2:45. and i have a feeling it will be a while until its restored. apocalyptic street scenes!

beautiful day for a game #gophils