I'm a big fan of small(er) cities, and love to sit on the porch in the evening with a drink. I'm lucky enough to have a job I really love. I tend to wake up happy.
I find brunch to be a contrived and slightly depressing custom. I'd just as soon drink mimosas while painting a barn. On a related note: I love helping friends run errands.
When I was a kid and visited my stepdad at his magazine's office, I couldn't believe that he spent the entire day "chatting and tapping". Where was the work?! The jig was up. When I was older, I would call him at the office and say, "Hey, how's the chatting going? Tough day of tapping?"
Well here I am many years later and though, of course, I chat and tap, I also try to measure up to my nine-year old self's sense of what life can be.
So I guess I'm saying, take it personally if I forget your name.
I'm not trying to pretentiously signify that I *only* read. But I love to read, and if I were on a train and I saw a guy sitting there reading any of these books, I'd sit down next to him. So, yes, it's a better indicator than most.
The Moviegoer, The Things They Carried, Yesterday's Weather, The Good Soldier, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, A Lesson Before Dying, All the King's Men, Waiting, A Long Long Way, The Beauty and the Sorrow: An Intimate History of WW1, Lost in the Cosmos, Regeneration, Canada, Let Us Now Praise Famous Men, A Testament of Youth, Lowboy, The Right Stuff, Geography of a Horse Dreamer, Richard Wilbur's "The Writer", any and all Springsteen lyrics
Mostly because romance has generally helped to quiet the parts of my brain that categorize, and that's been pretty great. You get it.
But here I am wandering in the world of algorithms and pithy bios. Cause, hey?