life lessons



Funny story, I couldn’t have anything to eat or drink after midnight before my surgery. The last think I had was a glass of water around 9:30pm. Woke up the next morning super early, peed, showered, got ready, and showed up at the hospital. When they take me back to prep me, they draw blood, hook me up to an EKG, take a chest x-ray, and then tell me that they’ll need a urine sample. I’m like… not sure I’m going to be able to oblige you there. They laughed and said, “Oh, you’ll be fine, just keep trying.”

An hour later no dice. I’m thinking to myself, I really wish someone had TOLD me they were gonna need a sample, otherwise I would have saved it up that morning!…




Not that kind of slice.


In less than a week’s time I’ll be having my first major surgery since I broke my arm jumping out of the bathtub at age seven (I had to pee!).

2018 has been a rough year for me, mostly stemming from my physical condition.

I’ve had low back pain on and off since I was a teenager, but starting in January, it was different than normal. It was more in my gluten and down my leg than ever before…



Normally, on a weekday morning, the rush is on.

Getting the first grader ready for school, lunch packed, and dropped off on time.

The four year old getting toys packed, slung in the carseat and off to my parent’s or in-laws house so that my wife and I can get to work.

This morning, however, I took my little one out to eat...


This may sound like a weird thing to say, but, I do my best not to argue with my characters. I’ve finished my first novel, The Wages of Grace (coming January 2017!), and I must admit, if it’s nothing else, it’s honest.

I had a few trusted people read the manuscript when I was done with the first proper edit, and I had a lot of good suggestions. I took them all to heart and some I even implemented. However, when it came to character’s motivations or specific things they did that maybe didn’t seem to fit their profile, I was really torn. Some of the suggestions were very good. They were rational and made sense. They just didn’t feel right, though.  


My grandfather loved soccer. His father was an official referee in the Soviet Union (there were remarkably few of them in the 1930’s. Maybe most of them were in the Gulag for bad calls?). 

But in America, there are lots of sports. And he liked many of them.

He taught me about the game, though. I remember being ten or so and kicking penalty shots against him in the goal. He was wearing pleated pants and a button up collared shirt.