I’m coughing from the turmeric powder stuck in my throat from a chai latte from Harken Cafe in the French Quarter in Charleston, South Carolina…

There was a man, hungover or drunk, on his bike on King Street in Charleston this morning that looked at me with recognition…

One thing I miss most about my previous apartment is the Hello Tushy. There’s nothing quite like a clean bum. Now, and on the road, I’m forced to use toilet paper…

Three years ago, after a much needed break from the world of tech and staring at computers, I moved to a Zen monastery in the Jemez Mountains of New Mexico…

About eighteen years ago now, I moved to Williamsburg, Brooklyn, the epicenter of hipsterdom. And truth be told, I fit right in. I had facial hair, wore vintage clothes, liked things ironically…

Fly fishing seemed fascinating for no other reason probably than that fly casting looked complicated and required that you stand in the middle of a river or creek.

The difficulty I can see with writing a blog that might potentially continue to highlight restaurants and bars is that, well, I’ll spend all of my time eating and drinking booze.