Piker Press put up “The Long Goodbye“, a non-fiction piece about one of our hosting adventures. Wait, is it an adventure if we don’t go anywhere? Hmm…deep. A five-minute read.
Jason found it wedged into the folded-up child seat of the shopping cart. A woman’s, the wallet was cheap and plastic, with a zipper handle shaped like a heart. Opening it, the first things to notice were the $100 bills. They were crisp and looked unused. Jason had to lick his fingertips to pull them apart. He counted 15. So far, so good – he hoped not to find any identification so he could keep the money with a clean conscience.
The announcer called the adult contestants to the line and I had that first guilty tingle – similar to what the Roman plebeians must have felt when they watched the lions pacing back and forth in the coliseum, waiting for dinner to be served. The drivers skidded through the watered-down infield to the start. Engines in need of lozenges roared. The announcer counted down. The green flag waved and seconds later my senses were overwhelmed by the endorphin rush from hearing the first metal-on-metal collision.
Last night I debuted my standup comedy routine at the Revival Theater here in Hyde Park. The video misses the first 5 or 10 seconds, but it won’t take long to pick up the plot. 4:41.
Engaged? Or thinking of popping the question? Then this is for you. It’s barely a two-minute read, and come on, is being on time for that next thing you have to do really all that important?
Here’s a romantic story, with time-travel, that went up on a site called /Asymmetry. It will take 9 minutes to read.
When a Race’s Logo Foreshadows its Own Cancellation The orange goo oozed down the windows, casting the cabin in an eerie Halloween glow. I had never been on a plane while it was being de-iced before. It was an airplane that was supposed to be on its way to Little Rock, Arkansas, where the next… Read More »
An Evening in Chicago with the Living Dead Chicago is known for its vibrant amateur theater scene. Usually low budget and unvarnished, the stereotypical performance is clever and quirky (or at least aspires to be) and takes place in a subterranean space where maybe the heat works, and maybe it doesn’t.
I hadn’t been this apprehensive about a trip for a long time. We were traveling to a place we had never been before and I was on edge. This foreboding foreign land for which we were bound was the four-star accommodation. For the first time, we were going upmarket.
It cuts through the center of the city and the short hop from our stop north of the center to the downtown stations convincingly made the case for calling the train a tour bus on rolling stock. There were great views of several guidebook attractions: the Botero sculpture plaza, the Plaza of Light, the bustling pedestrian malls. I felt vindicated as they got more than 85¢ worth of oohs and ahhs from me and my wife.