Essays.

Stephen "Jet" LaMantia: The Grill, the Goggles, and the List I Put Myself On

He wore swim goggles at the grill just to keep the smoke out of his eyes, laughing the whole time. I lost him on September 11th, and eventually followed his memory onto a very different kind of list.

Photo by Carol M. Highsmith, Library of Congress (public domain)

The Lighthouse We Didn't Climb

A rain check at the door, a veranda martini, and a rainy Thursday that turned into one of the better days anyway.

Photo: founder's own collection

Living Bodhi is Living Well

On Bodhi moments, choosing well, and the divorce that turned out to be one of the hardest, most honest decisions of a life he wouldn't trade away.

Photo: founder's own collection

Eighteen Months In, I Finally Arrived

I'd dreamed about Thailand since I was thirteen. I spent eighteen months working my way through it before a divorce, a stand-down, and a hostess named On taught me how to actually see it.

I Spent Forty Years Learning How to Disappear Into Work

The golden handcuffs of a pension, a handprint on a glass door, and forty years spent learning that time is the only currency you can never save.

Photo by Vitaly Gariev on Unsplash