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The Streak Ends

During these last couple weeks of not feeling as mentally sluggish as usual, I had pretty bad dystonia. Today it was my brain that felt clenched instead of my hand, foot or jaw, and I wasn’t able to produce anything of consequence here or with the lighthouse. I don’t write much about oromandibular dystonia because

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That Boy Ain’t Right

As Tom’s drama commenced yesterday, and again today when a marathon phone call from the (wo)man of the hour kept going and going, I was reminded of Deana Carter: “Did I reenable my notifications for this?” Having heard from the horse’s mouth the reasons for this breakup, I fully support it and hope they don’t

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The Lion in Winter

You couldn’t have asked for a worse first-round opponent for Rafael Nadal at this year’s Roland-Garros than Alexander Zverev, and Zverev’s recent Rome title has nothing to do with it: theirs is a mismatch of character, not styles of play. The odds favored Nadal losing early regardless of his opponent; with all his absences from

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Excuses, Excuses

Nothing I attempted to write tonight was worth reading and I considered going to bed without posting at all before deciding to keep myself honest. The reason I’m exhausted is fairly stupid: we got a new string trimmer. What (very) minimal setup it required — the video tutorial runs about 90 seconds — was embarrassingly

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