That Funny Feeling (Boomer Version)

Richard Nixon, Betty Draper, Dien Bien Phu Coronavirus, Walter Cronkite, Star Wars, 2 Live Crew Edmund Muskie, Simone Biles, rising student debt Napalm Children, Civil Rights, brand new cigarette There it is again, that funny feeling That funny feeling

Goodbye, Pandemic Ed

As the pandemic hit the East Coast, my barber shop closed. At the same time, people began to improvise masks. I vowed not to cut my hair again until an efficacious vaccine was running through Dr. Fauci’s and my veins. I was able to amuse myself in many ways, among them my "art project": creating a monthly “Hair and Mask Update” on social media.

Ulysses

"Ulysses" is a novella set in New York City on Bloomsday in the year 2022. We follow Hopper Tilley-Blandin, a successful author and unsuccessful husband, as he travels by foot through Manhattan to find peace with his family and his past and to recognize and confront his future.

The Aftermath of Trumpism

Perhaps the most striking and frightening aspect of the MAGAland flight from reality is the habit of treating facts as though they were mere opinions. This is a very serious thing, not only because it often makes discussion so hopeless, but primarily because the average MAGA supporter honestly believes this free-for-all, this nihilistic relativity about facts, to be the essence of democracy.

Another Day

Over every dinner – by now well over 365 meals -- my wife and I make a toast. We look each other in the eye, smile wistfully, and say, “another day.” We have survived one more day. More importantly, we are making plans, looking forward to what tomorrow brings, and continuing to manage risks in a world that has always tried to kill us.

God is a Middle-Aged Woman

“God is a Middle-Aged Woman” was originally recorded by Ezra Furman and the Harpoons in 2007. Ezra Furman was 21 years old. This song always astonished me, partly because of the youth of its composer and partly because of its depth and wisdom.

Goodbye to All That

The veils of memory tend to obscure the beginnings of things, but for the solitary soul with any imagination, there is no end to the variety of possible endings to a story. The reason or reasons I ended up in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, in 1990 are subject to the whims of marriage and family, the conveniences of geography and transportation, and advances in technology, mixed with the fear of the unknown. Replaying in my mind all the scenarios for my departure from Harrisburg nearly three decades later leaves me certain now, from the moment I arrived in Pennsylvania’s capital city from New York, that I would be leaving.

Notes on The Only Child

Several years ago, the mother of a young son asked me about the experiences of being an only child. She was considering whether or not to have another child; she was concerned that being an “only” would present challenges to her son that could be alleviated by having a sibling.

Transitions: The Transfer of Power in Our Nation’s Capital

I conceived of this photo essay in October 2020 before the presidential election. My goal was to record either how our nation’s capital handled the transition from one administration to another or how Washingtonians would react to the prospect of living four more years with a President who had declared war on the city’s norms. One hundred and nineteen photos comprise this exhibit.

Notes on Driving Across the Country During the Pandemic

What I am about to describe is not intended to inspire others to follow our path. My wife and I decided to drive across the country in the new year so that we could winter in Tucson, Arizona (that very same Arizona, which was portrayed by the darkest of dark reds on the New York Times indicating rates of COVID-19 infections).

Notes on the Trump Mob

Three times since the November election, I have observed in person crowds that have descended upon Washington DC in support of President Voldemort. And then today the Trump mob stormed the Capitol as Congress was in the process of certifying the Electoral College vote. As the District locks down under a 6:00 PM curfew, I want to share some observations.

Eleven Pipers Piping

Silver could not escape the feeling that listening to Taylor Swift made her want to break up with Louis and listening to Joni Mitchell made her want to marry Louis. The eleventh installment of the series, “The 12 Days of the Tilley-Blandin Coronavirus Christmas.”

Ten Lords A-Leaping

Louis Guidry received an unexpected phone call from the father of his girlfriend, Silver Tilley-Blandin. Louis did not know if her father was the Tilley or the Blandin, and it seemed to him to be the family joke that neither Silver nor her siblings knew, either. The tenth installment of the series, “The 12 Days of the Tilley-Blandin Coronavirus Christmas.”

Nine Ladies Dancing

Between the Black Lives Matter demonstrations, the ongoing threats to her and her family from the unceasing COVID-19 pandemic, and enforcing the short-lived, horrific PPE Act of 2020, Officer Alexandra Sykes felt broken. The ninth installment of the series, “The 12 Days of the Tilley-Blandin Coronavirus Christmas.”

Eight Maids A-Milking

Hopper Tilley-Blandin paused at his latest crossroad. This time, the choice was not between this random thing or that random thing. It was not even a choice between the two women, his ex-wife Ingrid Brzezinski or Charlize Theron, the girlfriend who had been on-and-off ghosting him since the onset of the pandemic. No, his choice: retreat to the safety of his family or move forward with someone outside the protective, insulated shell provided his family. The eighth installment of the short-story series, “The 12 Days of the Tilley-Blandin Coronavirus Christmas.”

Seven Swans A-Swimming

Reese Witherspoon is hosting a Zoom call with Edward Norton, Charlize Theron, Hopper Tilley-Blandin, and Hopper’s parents. The working title of the movie they are discussing is “The Living Canvases.” Hopper hates the title. The seventh installment of the series, “The 12 Days of the Tilley-Blandin Coronavirus Christmas.”

Six Geese A-Laying

Silver, Olympia, Hopper, and their parents received an unexpected message from Mia Gottschall, a New York attorney who represented mostly artists and writers and their families. Among Gottschall’s clients was the singer Fiona Apple, whom Silver and Olympia called “Mother Apple.” The sixth installment of the short-story series, “The 12 Days of the Tilley-Blandin Coronavirus Christmas.”

Five Golden Rings

The following text exchanges were captured from the mobile devices of Huey Newton Wallace, Huey’s ex-girlfriend Olympia Tilley-Blandin, Ingrid Brzezinski, Ingrid’s ex-husband Hopper Tilley-Blandin, the actress Charlize Theron. The fifth installment of the short-story series, “The 12 Days of the Tilley-Blandin Coronavirus Christmas.”

Four Calling Birds

"Christmas? What's that? I guess that I we can do some kind of Facetime or Zoom with Birgit. Exchange gifts over Amazon. Pray that we stay healthy while we wait for the vaccine." The fourth installment of the short-story series, “The 12 Days of the Tilley-Blandin Coronavirus Christmas.”

Three French Hens

How very glad and relieved she was that Reese had not let slip to anyone where she was located. She was also glad that she did not celebrate American holidays like Thanksgiving. It would have only disappointed the expectations of her friends and agent that she did not land a photo on TMZ for her sumptuous, envy-inducing feast. The third installment of the series, “The 12 Days of the Tilley-Blandin Coronavirus Christmas."

Two Turtle Doves

On the day before Thanksgiving, while on their daily stroll through a section of Washington, DC that this nauseatingly cute, white hipster couple had dubbed the “Death Zone,” Silver Tilley-Blandin turned to her boyfriend Louis Guidry and said, “Your name came up again on the internet.” Thus begins the second installment of the series, “The 12 Days of the Tilley-Blandin Coronavirus Christmas.”

A Partridge in a Pear Tree

“I love Christmas more than anything -- other than shooting at things and making lethal contact,” the older white man said into the recording studio microphone. “Just got myself a Christmas present, a new Remington 7600. Santy Claus better wear some blaze orange when he comes around just to be sure.”

Nolite te Bastardes Carborundorum

I feel as though I am about to exhale after holding my breath for 3 years and 360something days. Many people are calling for a return to normal, but who’s normal are we discussing? I suggest that we are going to have to create a new normal for ourselves, regardless of the outcome of the election.

Ulysses: Dead Artists Roll Over in Their Graves

His father's gravestone was a handsome granite; carved into it in Times New Roman were his father’s name, the dates of his birth and death, and the epitaph that his father had requested: “Dead artists roll over in their graves.” Hopper breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he could report to his mother and sisters that all the dates and spellings were correct, and that the gravesite had not yet been desecrated by any of his fans.

Ulysses: All Parents Damage Their Kids

They strolled leisurely to Birgit’s apartment and talked about their children. Perhaps for the first time today, Hopper relaxed. He admired the lengths to which Charlize went to protect her children from all the ways that parents encourage and feed their children’s paranoia and neuroses. “All parents damage their kids,” she said. “I just want to keep that damage to a minimum.”

Ulysses: Hopper Visits a Dead Woman’s Apartment

Since their sister's passing, neither Ingrid nor Heidi had visited Birgit’s apartment, which they jointly inherited. “Neither Heidi nor I want to own the apartment,” Ingrid explained to Hopper, “and we just can’t bring ourselves to go there.” However, before the sisters allowed a broker to inspect the residence, they asked Hopper to look it over and stay the night while he was in New York. “You want me to find the porn stash and hide it before anyone finds it?” he asked them over a Zoom.

Ulysses: The Stained-Collar Crime Wave

“You can always tell that you are in a neighborhood filled with high rates of unreported crime by how many private art galleries are located there,” Hopper’s father told him. “There are more art galleries in New York than any other city, and more art galleries on the Upper East Side than any other neighborhood in the world.” Hopper's father called this phenomenon "stained-collar crime."