I found myself standing at the foot of a frozen escalator, staring up at my own personal K2. I suspected other routes existed, but surely each had its own risks, and I had no time for an expeditionary council meeting. So I started up.
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“Of all the exercises I’ve taught you,” she said, “this is the most important.”
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The Passing of the Baton It’s come to this: my mother has given me her walking cane. Not because she’s done with it – no, she upgraded to something with wheels and a basket. Very European. And there was no cane handover ceremony, like a changing of the guard or some such. Just left it in my… Continue reading
Boomers – we’re still (mostly) here. Still (mostly) upright. And now, largely unburdened by meetings, parent-teacher conferences, or climbing the corporate ladder, we’ve got something we never had in our supposed prime: time and perspective.
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Dispatches from the Waiting Room of Act III
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The show closed. And yes, that’s a little sad. Like finishing a good book or waving goodbye at the airport – one of those soft heartbreaks that’s really just gratitude with nowhere else to go. But let’s not forget: in a world overflowing with unfinished scripts, almost-musicals, and “maybe-next-summers,” The Fork actually opened. Curtain up. Lights on…. Continue reading
Here’s the wonderful secret: we’re finally allowed to be beginners again. No one expects us to be prodigies at this point. We can take up painting and make clouds that look like cauliflower and call it style.
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If you’ve been reading Breaking Hip for a while, you may remember my vow to only write things that mean something to me. Which raises a fair question: Does this man really care about oversized meatballs and gleaming golden forks? Yes. The answer is yes.
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*Famous first sentence first drafts That title above is not just the opening line of a famous book — it’s also a pretty spot-on description of how it sometimes feels to launch a brand new play into the world. Opening weekend of The Fork had both ends of that Dickensian spectrum. I missed opening night — and… Continue reading
“I have an idea,” says younger brother Ken – words that, in our years of working together, are usually followed by the sound of something catching fire or catching flight. If I’ve ever done something bold or strange or creatively ambitious, it’s a safe bet Ken was there with a hammer, a diagram, and a spreadsheet.
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