From West Virginia, With Love

When I was in high school, I remember a lot of people talking about how they couldn’t wait to get away from Huntintgon, WV. I also remember, having very little conception of what really lay beyond my hometown, echoing that sentiment. I didn’t necessarily have specific aspirations, but I knew that home was lame and other places were inevitably cooler. Grass is greener kinda stuff. Fast forward 30 years, and I would say that I succeeded in getting away. I’ve lived in a few different cities and states, and I’ve traveled even farther, to places that are indeed cooler than my hometown and home state. I also moved back to West Virginia nearly 15 years ago, and have been living here ever since. Oops?

As I think about what I love about the state, I’m inevitably drawn to the contrast of what I don’t like. Opportunities are more scarce than in other places, and I could not see a path forward after my undergraduate degree that would keep me here. And once I got away, I genuinely did not have a plan to return. That was a bit of good fortune in finding a job that perfectly suited me, after I’d spent years in other places getting the degrees that job required. I also find the politics loathsome, and not in a purely left/right, Democrat/Republican kind of way. It’s more the pattern of the same few people running things for decades, making the same promises, and getting the same shitty results. Some of this is because West Virginia’s problems are complicated, and it would take sincere, dedicated work to address them. And a lot of it is because the people who consistently run for higher office are not all that interested in this sort of problem-solving.

And yet, here I sit, having spent the majority of my life in this state, and a fair chunk of that time voluntarily returning. Why? I probably wouldn’t have thought to choose West Virginia if I wasn’t coming back to something. And what I’ve realized is I was coming back to the people and places that shaped me. Yes, I scream incoherently at the TV screen when I’m watching Marshall play football, or basketball, (or soccer?!). And yes, I know that my only connection to the actual players on the field is that we attended the same school at very different times. But Marshall is also where I learned to love sports, with the people I love. It started when I went to games with my grandfather, continued with my dad and siblings, and extended to my nieces, nephews, and now my son. I also managed to go from being a student here to teaching courses and supervising students from the Psychology Department, one of the genuine joys of my professional life. It is completely impossible for me to drive past campus without having some kind of good memory.

I spent a bit of the day yesterday at Ritter Park, another place with memories going back to my childhood. I remember biking all the way across town to play hacky sack at the park. Once on the hottest day of the year. Somebody probably should have said something. And as an adult, I see what a genuine luxury it is to have such a massive, dedicated outdoor space.

And of course, no picture of a place is complete without talking about its people. My people. I have known the joy of living near four generations of my favorite Appalachian women (even though a couple of them have also up and left to seek their fortune). I also spent the past week with some of those same friends who complained with me about how there was nothing to do here. Some of them never left. Others went away and returned, like me. Maybe none of it went according to a plan, but there is definitely a gravity to home, wherever home may be.

Lastly, the mountains themselves. It seems silly writing this when I grew up in Huntington, on the Ohio River Valley. But I also remember traveling to Indiana, and later through Ohio, and much later than that along the Great Plains, and man did I miss topography! I love/hate driving along the West Virginia turnpike, seeing all the beauty in all four seasons, and laughing or raging at the flatlanders trying to navigate every curve and hill of that road. And that’s one of the good ones. I’ve enjoyed many a walk through these woods, occasionally alone, often with good company. I remember one of the things that actually drew me to come back here to work for the VA. I had just completed a meet-and-greet with my future boss, and we walked outside together as I returned to my car. I looked out and saw a vast landscape of trees and hills. I thought about my drive back to Toledo, to return to my gray apartment, and then my gray office. And then I thought, “I’m going to come home.”

And home is where I’ve been, since 2012. But now, a new adventure awaits. And this time, I’m not leaving home to seek my fortune. My little family is setting off to make a new home in Wisconsin. It’s a move I’ve been mostly looking forward to, and a little bit dreading. It is undoubtedly positive for us, but it is a little harder this time for me to leave home. And I think it’s because I know, much better than my high school self, that while there are places more interesting and inevitably cooler, there is nothing quite like the place that raised you. So to all of West Virginia, and especially the parts that brought me up as a person and a professional, so long, and thanks for all the memories.

And I’ll see you in a few months. It’s like an 11-hour drive, not across the world. Let’s not get all dramatic about this.

Philly 20+ Years Later

There is something revitalizing about being back in the City of Brotherly Love on a rain-soaked Sunday when the Eagles are blowing a game in absolutely gut-wrenching fashion. Granted, the NFL didn't have the courtesy of getting it out of the way by early afternoon in the early 2000s. With better weather, we'd have had time to go to the zoo or something. 

A little backstory. I moved to the greater Philadelphia area in the Summer of 2002, which coincidentally was the season where the Donovan McNabb led Eagles made the first of four consecutive NFC Championship games. I didn't have any real NFL allegiance at the time, and Philly has a relatively deserved reputation for being unkind to visiting sports fans, so I somewhat passively became one of them. One of them. One of us. I don't think I ever got to fully embrace the pessimism though. Because despite the fact that they lost three of those championship games, then a Super Bowl, and the Phillies were hot garbage the whole time I was there (they actually demolished Veterans Stadium in 2004, a fine metaphor for the organization itself at the time), and the Sixers never quite maximized Iverson's talent, my Philly phandom actually paid off relatively quickly. The Phillies won a World Series a few years after I left. The Eagles have won two Super Bowls. Villanova won two basketball titles, including the greatest NCAA final game in history (I am not inviting discussion on this point). The Sixers have/had a process. Ok, there's still work to be done, but it has largely been a fruitful rooting experience.

Also, despite not being back in Philadelphia for quite a long time, sports kept me connected to the place where I really started to become an adult. After spending 4 years at Marshall, and living at home, I was never really forced to do most of the hard parts of adult life, or even college life. I didn't adapt to new roommates, though the old ones certainly came with their own challenges. I didn't think all that hard about bills or where food was coming from or if I could afford things. I did not have an extravagant life by any means, but I was not struggling. And at the same time, I was not really academically challenged, certainly not by two or even three classes at a time. And Philly changed all that for me at once.

So now, almost 25 years after I first set foot in the area, I was able to come back. To visit my niece. Who moved there to start her own graduate school journey. And that makes me old. But man, was it fun running around the city with her! And let me tell you, she is soooo much adultier than I was at that age. She's all, "Last time I was at Love Park I got free coffee," and "We'll just take the train and meet you." I was all, "I'll stay in my studio apartment and watch Monty Python DVDs and hope someone befriends me." (They did and it was wonderful). We had a really nice visit, or as nice as you can in the remnants of a hurricane. We got to walk around the Reading Terminal Market with an over-stimulated toddler, who loved looking at the fish heads, and had the best two strawberry cupcakes of his life. I had my first real cheesesteak in a long time and some very fine ramen the next night. We capped it off with Emma's neighborhood coffee shop, Milkcrate Cafe, and were on our way. 

(Special shoutout to Cindy for meeting us at a Target on Sunday so we could catch up somewhere dry and have a chance at keeping our son happy. It worked!).

All that to say, it was an absolute pleasure to be back. I apologize for every red light I forgot to run through. I'll do better the next time. Until then, Philly...Go Birds. (Please, for the sanity of that city, GO!).

Three Years of Fatherhood

This month’s topic veers a bit away from my evangelical roots, in that I’m going to say a lot about being a dad, including some of the best things I’ve experienced in life so far, without once advocating that anyone else do it.

I’ve heard numerous variations on the general theme, “it goes by so fast.” And after celebrating Miles’s 3^rd birthday last week, I’m inclined to give the statement on the whole a fact-check TRUE. However. Many of the individual days also seem like they lasted 3 years. Time is a paradox, and I think physicists have some splainin’ to do when it comes to the subjective experience of parenting.

Let me just get the complaining out of the way early. I thought my complaints would center around things that are gross. Cleaning up poopy diapers and vomity beds and that kind of thing. Thankfully, we’ve had very few illness experiences, and even less that were disgusting. Poopy diapers are such a nothing experience now that I barely register them. I’ll be happy when I change my last one, but until then I’ll be alright. What I didn’t expect was the new depths of tired I experience on a regular basis. I want to go back in time and yell at all former versions of myself who ever complained about poor energy.

And a corollary to this problem is what an absolute asshole I’ve been to the little joy of my life who may also send me to an early grave. When Kate was pregnant, I heard a lot of the same cliched comments about joy and challenges and blah, blah, blah. The one that registered was a colleague who said something like, “My son and I have a very good relationship now, but when he was a baby I wanted to throw him out the window.” That was by far the most validating thing I heard about parenting before becoming a parent, and I want to echo it into infinity for anyone who decides to join the club. I’ll spare my own ego enough to not recount a lot of specifics. I’ll only say that I did not ever throw Miles out the window, but I absolutely threatened it more than once.

Ok, got that out of the way. Nothing in all the world lets you know you picked the right partner like co-parenting. I’ll keep making the joke until I’m dead, but as much as I complain about being an old dad, I would never have been a better parent if it had occurred during any prior administration. Kate is not a perfect mom, but she is the best mom, and that makes all the difference in the world.

Sometimes parenting Miles reminds me of my favorite parts of my youth. I grew up with a group of extremely charming, talented, creative, funny people. It was not unusual for me to find myself belly-laughing for several minutes, and then struggling to remember why. I have absolutely repeated that experience with Miles several times over. Kate and I have frequently commented on how incredible his comedic timing is, starting back when all he had available to him were facial expressions, rudimentary control of his fingers and toes, and his bodily functions. For every time I’ve thought about putting him outside and closing the door behind him, there have been ten more times when I’ve laughed and marveled over him. I know that charm will also one day bring me pain, but I value it all the same.

In my forever quest to improve myself, he has also been responsible for pushing me. He’s made me reconsider my health, to the point that I wake up at genuinely unpleasant times to make sure I can exercise and try to keep up with him. He’s made me rethink priorities that were never serving me well, but that I now actually have the initiative to adjust. He 100% makes me question my relationship to my phone. And he’s revived one of the things I’ve always enjoyed about teaching, the process of breaking something down that I take for granted, in a way that someone else can absorb it and replicate. For most of the past several years this has involved teaching psychological assessment or clinical interviewing or risk stratification or something. Now it’s how to not fall down the stairs, or get food mostly in your mouth, or count to 20 (he consistently skips 16 for some reason, but he’s getting better!).

And lastly, Miles reminds me often that I’m not allowed to take myself too seriously. I have to be prepared to waddle like a penguin in the doctor’s office, or clean up some unexpected mess, or bounce back from a careening meltdown and be ready to giggle again, even if my frustration hasn’t quite dissipated yet. Because there is no good in hanging on to the frustration. Just ride the wave and find your way to the next good thing. And before you know it, they’re three!

An Almost Entirely Politics-Free Review of Washington D.C.

Okay, let's get the political part of this out of the way. We inadvertently went to Washington D.C. as Congress was going into recess, so all of the politicians and much of their staff left town as we were arriving. That was awesome and I highly recommend it. Congress actually publishes their scheduled recesses, so you can plan your trip around it. Do that.

I am by no means an expert on visiting our nation's capital, but after doing it again, and enjoying it literally every time, I decided it was a recommendation worth making. Here, in no particular order, are the consistent pros:

1. Smithsonian museums are free. Here's my second bit of pseudo-politics...nothing is free. Our taxes actually fund the work going on at the Smithsonian museums. But if you want to rank order what I want my money to go to, preserving and displaying the range and depth of information they have would rate pretty high.
2. The city is really accessible. The National Mall is very walkable, though the heat did become a bit prohibitive in August. The metro is pretty user friendly, and gets to a lot of the fun stuff available. And if you feel really lazy (spoiler alert: almost always), there is never a shortage of cabs and rideshares available. 
3. The variety of food is incredible. On this trip alone, we ate farm-to-table, had a cross-country Mediterranean tasting menu, and had ramen at a Charlie Chaplin themed Japanese restaurant. There was also a really nice, local coffee shop a short walk from our hotel. And of course we did not scratch the surface.

The cons are not going to get a list like the above, because that's not what this is about. But, August is hot and steamy. Going into air-conditioned museums/restaurants frequently is highly recommended. Also for some reason every city has embraced the stupid electronic scooters and e-bikes, and people ride them on the sidewalk with reckless disregard. Whenever Congress gets back, they should do something about that (ha. ha.). 

If you go for a long weekend, and you haven't been before or haven't been in awhile, here's what I'd do. Get a reservation in advance to see the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum and the National Museum of African American History and Culture. Maybe do those on separate day, if nothing else because the time commitment is a lot. But also, you know, it gets a little heavy. Do the DC at Night monuments tour. It will take you to the MLK and FDR monuments, the Lincoln Memorial (and the incredibly well done Korean War Memorial, as well as the Vietnam Wall), and the Marine Corps Memorial statue from Iwo Jima. Definitely do NOT vandalize the reflecting pool. I know you were thinking about it. Don't do it, hippie. 

While all the food we had was good, the places I think I'd recommend to anyone are Warka Coffee and Chaplin's Japanese restaurant. If you want to get really specific, I recommend the curry ramen. Thank me later. 

But I think the over-arching thing I'd say is, as much as we (appropriately) talk about D.C. from a purely political perspective, and as many truly maddening things come out of that place, the city itself is actually an American treasure, and we should not hold the politics against the place. Go check it out sometime, ideally when Congress has vacated the city, and reconnect with some of the very best things the country has to offer. 

Ireland (Hospital) Excursion

Hello again! I swear, every month I set out to do this with my original intention in mind. Namely, to spread good news about something that I think is good or cool or important. And several times, life has intervened and said NAY, you will write about what I give you to write about. So instead of writing about the beautiful Irish countryside, the lovely Irish people, or the fantastic Irish beverages we consumed, I'm going to tell you a little about the Irish healthcare system (and the lovely Irish people).

To set the stage, Kate, Miles, and I were traveling with several other family members on a driving tour of the Emerald Isle. Miles had successfully lulled us into a false sense of security by successfully navigating multiple flights, hotels, long car rides, and general proximity to strangers with a positive attitude and relatively minor difficulties. Coupled with the fact that several of our most favorite babysitters were accompanying us on the trip, we felt exceedingly confident that all would go relatively smoothly. Ha. Ha.

Instead, Miles began showing some signs of illness fairly early in the trip. While he never spiked a fever, he kept getting more and more irritable, loud, and difficult to manage in most public and private places. While we expected his sleep to be disrupted, he also wasn't able to get any daytime catchup sleep, which probably didn't do him any favors. By day 3, I was concerned he might need to see a doctor. 

On day 4, we stayed at the absolutely beautiful Ballyseede Castle. Because I only have so much cognitive ability left, I'm going to largely stifle the urge to tell you about other aspects of the trip. However, this was a genuine castle, and it was staffed by two very large Irish Wolfhounds. These are the coolest hotel guests I've encountered since some penguins in Hawaii. They did not help us, but Miles did enjoy petting one before things went south.

Miles initially went to sleep relatively normally, but woke up at 11:30PM making the most awful wailing scream. He was completely incapable of making a coherent thought or communicating where he hurt. After maybe 30-45 minutes, he abruptly returned to sleep, presumably having worn himself out. Unfortunately, he woke again around 2AM making the same horrifying sound. It was apparent that this was more than just sleep deprivation and fussiness. 

I don't know how many of you have accessed healthcare in another country, but it is an eye-opening experience. And while I don't particularly recommend it, I have appreciated the opportunity to check some of my assumptions based on accessing healthcare in this country. But this is not going to be purely about systems, because much of the best of this story is about people...starting just after 2AM. 

When we decided to take Miles in to be seen, I started wandering about the castle (a fun phrase I couldn't resist) looking for help. I ran in to Ray, a member of the hotel staff who was in the lobby. I explained the situation and asked if he could call an ambulance to get us to the hospital. Instead, Ray said, "Let me get my keys." We met Kate and Miles outside, where Ray's car was parked right out front, with a carseat in the back. He told us about how far we would be going, and drove us straight to the Emergency Department. He showed us where to go check in, and encouraged us to call the hotel when we were finished so he could come pick us up. We ended up being a bit later than his shift, but Ray's kindness and quickness were very much appreciated in that moment. 

The ER waiting room looked about like any you've seen. Room full of unhappy people, waiting. Kate began the process of checking in, while I took Miles into an adjoining waiting room to try to spare the whole of Ireland of his wailing. Alas. One thing that was immediately different was that we were charged up front for the ER stay. We were given a flat rate, based on our non-EU status, and told that would cover whatever evaluation and treatment needed to occur. While not cheap, this was much preferable to trying to deal with billing, insurance, and haggling over what would and would not be covered (don't worry, we still get to do that with our own insurance once we got home). And, had we been Irish or even EU citizens, the rate would have been much lower. I won't go to the trouble of contrasting this with my previous ER visit of a few years ago, but I bet you can guess which process I preferred.

Within about 10 minutes (after being shooed back into the main waiting area), we were taken by a triage nurse who did her best to get a symptom report out of us and Miles. He was less than cooperative. However, we got enough vitals and such to move into a pediatric specific waiting area, where we again stayed for a very short time. Miles had some slightly low blood sugar (on account of not eating or drinking normally because of pain), and they tried to find a number of things he could eat to bring that up. He roundly rejected juice, biscuits (cookies...silly Irish), and yogurt. Later, we finally got him to eat an apple, and I tell you he demolished that apple. Not in time to keep the doctor away, but a welcome site all the same. 

Before long, we were escorted upstairs to the pediatric unit, which is where they also treated pediatric ER cases. It was immediately comforting to know that we were going to be seen by specialists rather than generalists. The nursing staff and physician were quickly attentive and took another history from us. They came armed with a toy car, plane, and motorcycle, still in the package, just for Miles. With those distractions, we got a bit more of an assessment completed. Miles was not happy, but he was also starting to feel a little more in his element with new people to charm. He showed off his manners and his nonsense sentences, but couldn't provide any more useful information about where it hurt. Fortunately, the doctor was able to get a good look at his inflamed throat, and we were on our way to a diagnosis and treatment. 

But that's not all! On our way out, one of the nurses gave us several doses of pain medication, because she knew we wouldn't be able to get to a pharmacy right away. We got prescriptions for more pain medication and antibiotics (the horrors were to persist for the remainder of the trip), and our driver, Andrew, had caught up to the nonsense and arranged to come pick us up. He took us back to the hotel, where he had already arranged a very late checkout for us so we could rest while the rest of the tour went to Dingle. I don't know how they feel about Dingle, but Andrew's frequent retort was "it's only Dingle." I ate breakfast at the Ballyseede with Andrew, and one of the staff came up to inquire about the little boy who had gone to the hospital. She directed me rather forcefully to call or ask anyone on staff if there was anything at all we needed. Andrew took me back to the pharmacy when it opened, and offered to give us some cash if we needed to cover the unexpected expenses. We rested in the room for a few hours, and then while we were waiting for the rest of the group to rejoin us, yet more of the hotel staff brought out coffee to one of the many lovely sitting rooms for us to enjoy (and wake us back up). 

So, what's the "good" in this? First and foremost, every single person we encountered in the entirety of Ireland was kind. Most of them were also funny. Not once did anyone complain about Miles being an inconvenience or a bother, though he was very much being both. I know, I know. It's not his fault he got sick. Still. From the moment I met Ray in the lobby until we rejoined our tour, relatively on schedule, everybody did the absolute best version of what you would hope for in those circumstances. I've worked in a healthcare setting long enough to both see and feel the cynicism that can come from working in a system that seems to overcomplicate every minutiae. What I appreciate most about our little medical debacle is that people were kind, and process was relatively simple. And while I think we're quite a long way from simplifying healthcare around here, I hope we can work our way around to being that kind and hospitable more of the time. Cheers to you, Ireland! I'll be back someday without a toddler.

Railbird 2026, Am I Too Old For This Sh!t?

It has been widely circulated that Danny Glover was only 41 years old when he played the role of 50-year-old Roger Murtaugh in the movie Lethal Weapon, where he made famous the phrase, "I'm too old for this sh!t." (Forgive the lengthy parenthetical, but when I first said this to someone they thought I was talking about Donald Glover/Childish Gambino. I think this solidifies that I am in fact too old for all the things.).

Well I'm not doing any cop stuff, but I'm 46 and going to my very first all-day music festival. There will be greater than 10 hours of live music, food and drink vendors, and whatever elements Mother Nature wants to send our way. Kate and I were also blessed with very nice tickets that will include access to shelter, shade, air conditioning, and the amenities that the peasants will be wishing for in the mid-afternoon sun/rain/mud/conditions unknown. I still might be too old for this sh!t.

So, what happened? We went to Railbird! We showed up early, with refillable water bottles, sunscreen, sunglasses, hats, Liquid IV packs. We immediately scoped out our VIP lounging and viewing area, got an initial round of beverages, and went to the Elkhorn stage to see Kashus Culpepper. He was great (and will be the subject of the Album of the Week this week). He threw in a couple of Bill Withers covers, which is always a fast track to my heart. There was the briefest sprinkle of rain, and then it was delightfully cloudy. We enjoyed the end of the set, and then returned to the VIP area. So far, not too old. 

We wandered around a bit from there, looking at the food vendor options and some of the merch. Caught a little bit of Carter Faith from a distance at the Limestone stage (main stage). At one point she did a cover of Oops I Did It Again, which made me chuckle. The VIP lounge had a large covered seating area with tables and some couches, which were generally occupied throughout the day. We scored a table early on before departing to see Margo Price, but most of the rest of the day was spent either standing in front of a stage or sitting on grass. Railbird was held at The Red Mile, which is predominantly a horse track. What that means is there are no trees or other obvious sources of shade, so when the sun came out (basically from this point until it gave up and set several hours later), it was relentless and hot. Still not too old, but definitely needed another layer of sunblock and some hydration.

I really like Margo Price. I've never really sought her out individually, but this is the 3rd time I've seen her perform, and I've always enjoyed it. She's firmly on the end of music with a message and purpose. Whether you agree with her perspective or not, she is not bland. Oh, also I think she puts real effort into her live shows and is not just there to collect a check. Good times all around. Not remotely too old for this sh!t

Okay, but it's hot. Here's one of the pros/cons of one of these festivals. Someone is always playing music. The minute Margo quit playing the Limestone stage, Shakey Graves started back over at the Elkhorn. So either you run from place to place because FOMO, or you take your opportunities to rest and relax and pick your battles (musical acts in this scenario are battles). We tried to do both. Went over to Shakey Graves for a couple of songs, realized the sun was not likely to quit, and went back for shade and refreshments. He was fine. Sounded an awful lot like he does in the car, which is fine. Not too old, but also not sitting around in the heat for just anyone.

Given that this was peak heat of the day, we spent the next hour or so hunkered in the shade. We got some food and drink, and made some friends. One couple from New Orleans seemed to be regular festival goers. They also both had the whitest teeth I've ever seen on a person in my life. I'm glad we were in the shade because I think if the sun had reflected off of them I would have gone blind. Nice folks. Another couple we sat with a bit later came from Kansas. He was an estate attorney and the fact that I know about that while attending a music festival says a lot. But it was pleasant enough chit chat and we avoided direct sunlight for awhile. Muscadine Bloodline was playing on the Limestone stage kinda behind us, with a volume consistent with a backyard barbecue. Pleasant, not intrusive, and not memorable. I have zero opinion of them, and that is not their fault. 

Thankfully, by the time Shane Smith and The Saints kicked things off a little after 6, the heat had begun to relent and we got our second wind. Whether it was the band or the conditions (or the growing number of attendees), the energy picked way up with this act and stayed up for the rest of the night. For the audience at large I mean. We stuck around for the end of The Saints, and then took one last break to fuel up for the home stretch.

We got back to the Elkhorn stage to see Ella Langley come on. She was the subject of last weeks' album, so I won't go terribly deep on the performance. She seems fun. She definitely had plenty of fans who clearly came explicitly to see her, and she put on a good show. As I said before, she's a little too down-the-middle country for me, but in a way that doesn't feel excessively produced or inauthentic. I think I'm just not the target audience, and that's fine. Besides, we had to go stake a claim to our plot of land for the main attraction, Mr. Tyler Childers.

This was also my 3rd time seeing Tyler, but the first since the pandemic had come and gone. He has a lot of new material, and some would say a new freedom of expression. As a huge fan of his most recent album, I was excited to hear those live performances, especially his mildly unhinged preamble to Bitin' List. But he played a lot of old favorites too, and let his band shine. He did a very cool thing and brought out one of his old collaborators to sing a couple of songs with him, including the recently revived Jersey Giant and a stirring rendition of My Rifle, My Pony, and Me. He fittingly closed the show with Lady May, and I've since read that they have welcomed a new child into the family...speaking of things I'm too old for. Anyway, it was a lovely time, a very enthusiastic but polite crowd, and all-in-all a day that I would do again. The verdict: I am not yet too old for this sh!t.

Postscript: Getting Home

So the thing about a big outdoor all-day event, is that eventually day turns to night and you have to sleep somewhere. We had secured such a place, about 5 miles from the event. To avoid $100 parking and the risk of driving intoxicated, we planned to rideshare. Getting there was easy. Getting home was...something. We went to the rideshare area and called for a couple of vehicles, only to have the app reject our request. So we decided instead to walk away from the venue, in hopes of better luck. About a mile away, we stopped in a Holiday Inn parking lot and tried again. After a few minutes, we were able to secure a $50 ride back to the hotel, where we were finally deposited early Monday morning. We ate some leftover mac and cheese from the previous night's dinner, had a glass of wine, and promptly fell asleep by...what time is it? 2:00?!?! I'm definitely too old for this sh!t.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy - An 8th Grade Book Report

I first read The Hitchhiker's Guide To the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams, when I was in my early teens. I can't tell you how many times I've read or listened to it since, but I know that it has to be far and away the book I've read the most. A short passage hit my brain so hard that I read it aloud amongst family and friends at an event my mom called "Sacred Circle," in which everyone shared something important or meaningful to them. Later, the same passage inspired my first tattoo. This oh so meaningful passage? The creation and death of a sperm whale, with a moment-to-moment cataloguing of all its thoughts. Sounds profound, right?

It occurred to me recently that, though I've shared my love of this book in many audiences and many formats over the years, I've never really gone in depth as to why. So, for this month's installment of "good things I think you should know about," I'm writing a book report that I hope would be good enough to pass my 8th grade Language Arts class. Here goes.

On its face, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is about a guy who almost simultaneously has to come to grips with humanity not being alone in the universe and then come to grips with being the only human left in the universe. Things that, were any of us really faced with them, we likely could not comprehend the cognitive, emotional, and physical ramifications. So Adams largely skips over this and gets on with the story. 

What follows instead are themes that I'm pleased to report still resonate today. This most prominently includes how power is amassed, deployed, and distracted from, and how people can and should and do behave when they are outsmarted by technology. In fact, the things I appreciated the most in my recent re-read of this book were not the fanciful things Adams invented, but the fact that he could imagine and deploy things like e-books and AI powered robots and shipboard computers that could respond in real time. All that, and he managed to capture some of the conflict that comes when sentient beings interact with these super smart, non-organic sources of information and knowledge. The fact that I'm reading a science fiction comedy book first published in 1979 and applying "lessons" to my frustration with AI in real time is a testament to Adams's creativity. Or maybe to the power of very heavy drinking. Either way.

A central (a term I must use loosely) theme of this book is the quest for the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything. Right now, you either know the book and know the answer, or you don't know the book and you are deeply curious. So I'm not going to tell you. But the conflict set up here is essentially between organic life forms and computers. Computers are deployed to give a definitive answer, while philosophers and free thinkers come in to protest that if the answer is known, they'll have nothing to do. They demand "rigidly defined areas of doubt and uncertainty!" To me, this maps on to a lot of the fears that many people (myself included) currently feel about AI and how it is not only being used, but is being thrust on us at every turn. In particular, the notion that AI is replacing human thought begins to bring into question what we're actually for. If a computer can do it better, faster, and cheaper, what's to be left for us? The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy answers that question quite ably, with the Earth being destroyed entirely within the first 30 pages or so. I'm afraid we're going to be left to our own devices on this one.

A brief aside on this sperm whale mini-story. The first time I read these few paragraphs, I remember laughing out loud in my room. It was absurd, creative, and above all else, hilarious. It was one of the first times, if not the very first, that the written word had brought out such a strong feeling. Over years of reading and re-reading, I found the passage to be deeper and more impactful than I first realized. In a few short paragraphs, Adams managed to convey a philosophy of life that I find extremely helpful. Be curious. Ask probing questions. Be optimistic and hopeful. Thrash your tail around and have a good time. Life ends when it ends, and you may not get a warning. Make the best of it. 

Shrinking (Mostly Harrison Ford)

I feel like I really let you guys down last month, so this time around I'm going to talk about something unambiguously good: Parkinson's Disease! Shit. OK, what I'm really going to talk about is the television show Shrinking, and even more specifically the role played by Harrison Ford, who, spoiler alert, does get diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. Good news, though. It's pretend! Well, not Parkinson's on the whole, but in this one instance. 

Let me back up. Shrinking is a show (on Apple TV) that centers around a therapy practice run by Harrison Ford, Jason Segel, and Jessica Williams, three actors that I have enjoyed across multiple roles. The show was created by Bill Lawrence, the guy behind my favorite show of all time (Scrubs) and the also very good Ted Lasso. The additional bonus for this show is that it is about my profession, which is typically a big no from me unless, 1) the work they are doing is completely divorced what my actual job looks like (check) and , 2) it's exceptionally good (check). 

So, I expected to like this show from the jump, and I expected Harrison Ford to be good. He's been in my life since my first watching of Star Wars and Indiana Jones, and has been in so many good movies over the years that it feels silly that I'm coming here to tell you how good he is. But I'm here to tell you, in Season 1 I said out loud, "I didn't think I could love Harrison Ford more, but I do." 

As a psychologist, the problem I have with a lot of shows about mental health is that they lack creativity and depth. All the therapists are warm, touchy-feely people who want to help their patients get better, and end up crossing some professional boundary to make that happen. Jason Segel's character gets that trope in this show, and he plays it beautifully. The contrast with Harrison Ford's character is, well, he's kind of a dick. To put it slightly more charitably, he represents a more realistic example of a real, seasoned clinician, specifically in that he is neither over-involved, nor is he interested in sugar-coating things for his patients, his colleagues, or his friends. He is present as multiple characters are experiencing real, life-changing events, and he's hitting them with more than just empathy and positive affirmations that things will get better. And then he has to deal with his own tragedy and put all his tough talk into action.

In the course of writing this, I've spontaneously encountered several other interviews of people talking about Harrison Ford. One person referred to this show specifically and said, "Harrison Ford is a national treasure." Another actor talked about working with him, saying, "He's not like us. He's a different kind of person." This reinforces what I'm seeing. This is a guy who is professionally still taking on difficult things, perhaps grappling with his own aging and mortality, while absolutely nailing the role and helping me not hate all TV therapists. So that's this month's good. Harrison Ford is a damn fine actor. A national treasure, in fact. And Shrinking is worth your time. Enjoy!

Spreading Good News?

I started this year with a plan to share something cool I think you should know about at least one time per month. And right out of the gate I'm wondering, is this actually good? 

See, my suggestion this month is Behind the Bastards, a podcast dedicated to highlighting the worst people in human history. Cheery, right? So, here's why I think this still qualifies. It's a really good podcast. Case closed. 

Fine, here's a little more depth. The host, Robert Evans, has been an imbedded journalist in some of the gnarliest conflict areas in the world. So the man not only knows his bastards, but he has seen the real life consequences of bastardly behavior. And the podcast format is perfect for a guy like me, who knows a little about a lot of things, but not very much about any one thing. Robert does a massive, heavily-researched deep dive into a figure from human history (or present day), and then presents it to his relatively ignorant guest. The guest serves as an admirable stand-in for chumps like me who would like to think they know about things, but haven't quite gotten around to it yet. 

Some of the figures are exactly who you'd expect them to be. Prominent members of the Nazi party, dictators of various regimes who imprisoned and killed their political opponents, cult leaders, etc. Others I promise you have literally never heard of and hope to never hear of again. And that's where I think the podcast actually does its best work. One of my takeaways from the drama and intrigue around the Epstein Files (which this podcast 1000% did a 4-parter on recently), is that there is so much we don't know about bad actors in the world. But it's not always because the information is unavailable. Sometimes it's just because no one is dedicated enough to compiling the information and presenting it to the general public. Robert is that person, and he presents information in ways that are both digestible and often entertaining. Though "entertaining" also depends a bit on your ability to wade into some of the darkest humor imaginable...they are right bastards, after all. 

The episode that fully sold me on this podcast is the one I linked to above. Here, Robert and his guest tackle not an individual bastard, but the most devastating industrial disaster in American history. Imagine my surprise that it occurred right up the road from me, at a location that is now a State Park, and I had never, ever in my life heard about it. The Hawks Nest Tunnel project led to the premature deaths of so many predominantly Black and immigrant workers due to poor working conditions and failure to adhere to known safety standards. But nowhere in my education (which included mandated WV History in the 8th grade AND a WV history course in college) did this come up. These are the Bastards that need to be talked about. We cannot allow the awful parts of our history to be whisked away because they are uncomfortable, and that's why I think this show is not only good, but genuinely important. 

But fear not, despite our best efforts at times, the USA does not have a monopoly on bastardry. There are bastards throughout the world, and throughout human history, and they each deserve the level of scrutiny and vitriol that this podcast provides. 10/10. Highly recommend. Maybe pet a dog or take a walk afterwards.

Birthday Resolutions

Hi! Today is my 46th birthday. It is not a particularly interesting number worthy of any special commemoration. And yet, this is the year that I decided I would make my Birthday Resolutions public.

First, a little history. About 9 years ago (another irrelevant anniversary), I got in a spirited online debate about how annoying it is that everyone joins the gym at the beginning of January and throws the regulars off their (our) schedule. I'm sympathetic to anyone taking steps towards self-improvement, but could you please take them a little further away from the triceps press? Anyway, the conversation led me to the notion of creating personal resolutions on birthdays, rather than everyone doing it all at once. My rationale (based firmly in self-interest) is that people are more likely to follow through on resolutions that have a more personal connection. What better way to start improving yourself than on the anniversary of your arrival on the Earth? And guess what?! I bought my own bullshit! That very year, I set goals for myself on February 11th. Did I hit those goals with any more consistency than ones I previously set on January 1st? I'm scientifically-minded enough to know I can't answer that question...but I kinda think I did. And what I know for certain is that the ones I hit, I tracked, and was very proud of!

A few examples. The very first year, I decided I needed to read more. So I set a modest goal of 12 real, physical books to be read. I read about 5 in the first 2 months, then slowed the pace down considerably. But I read my 12th book (The Bell Jar) on my birthday, in my bed, on a rainy day in Huntington and It. Was. Glorious. Another year, I decided to write one letter a month to an unsuspecting important person in my life. I received a few letters and messages back, and these little bits of correspondence brightened up my own life, in addition to the recipients. 

And not ALL of my health-related goals have been a wash. While I did not lose weight this year, I did (eventually) get to the point where I am regularly hitting 8,000 steps at least 4 days a week, doing formal exercise at least 3 days a week, and I have eliminated candy from my diet entirely (until today!). 

So, that brings me to this year. One of the things I've been gradually realizing about myself is that my evangelical upbringing did not leave me when I stopped attending a church. It turns out that one of my core beliefs is that if you know good news, you should be sharing it with people you care about. As a result, one of my resolutions this year is to write on this page once a month (I'm going to try to stick to the 11th) about something I think is really cool that you should be aware of. It might be a book or album review, maybe a restaurant or cool destination to visit, or some as yet undetermined thing that hits my brain that month. The one thing I can promise, is that almost certainly will NOT be timely. I have no idea if the new Taylor Swift album is any good, but you absolutely must listen to Bill Withers Greatest Hits from beginning to end! Banger after banger!

And to get this year started off right, this is my first recommendation. Start doing Birthday Resolutions! Yes, I still want the gym to be less crowded in January. But I have also been doing this long enough to really appreciate the approach, and I think it might be worth trying. Especially if you make New Years Resolutions and struggle to keep them, or even if you think all resolutions are stupid and you just go about your regular life being awesome. It has been a rewarding exercise that started with a snarky Facebook post, and I think that alone is noteworthy (shoutout Brandy Hamrick, my foil in this and many other online discussions). 

Oh, one other thing. When I'm setting goals, I keep in mind my favorite criteria, set forth by Wes Bullock in my graduate training. Do not set a goal that could be accomplished by a potted plant. Let's say, for example, you want to quit smoking. You do not set as a goal, "I will not smoke a cigarette," because the plant will also not smoke a cigarette. Instead, you try something like, "When I want to smoke a cigarette, I will go outside and take deep breaths for 5 minutes instead." The plant is just sitting inside, dumbfounded at your ability to accomplish such an admirable goal!

So here's my plan for this year. 

Daily: 1) I'm going to eat one piece of fresh produce. I'm not going to try to cut out snacking, but I'm going to make sure that at least one of my snack choices is healthy. Today was a serving of grapes. 2) I'm going to drink 64 ounces of water. This is a failed resolution from last year, but one that I believe in enough to put it back on the board and start again. My kidneys will thank me. 3) I will eat homemade dessert, or none at all. No store-made processed cakes or snack cakes or anything of that sort. I'll either become a good baker, be exceedingly fortunate in stumbling upon homemade goodies, or maybe I'll finally get to some of that weight loss that's been so elusive. 4) I'm going to stretch for at least 10 consecutive minutes, and not at the gym. 

Weekly: 1) I'm going to run the equivalent of a 5K every week, with the eventual goal of doing it all in one day and doing the rest of my workouts as I have been this year. I did about 7/10ths of a mile today, and clearly need to break the new running shoes in a little bit. 2) I'm going to listen to an album, start to finish, that I've never heard before. It might be something from an artist I know a little, or it might be brand new to me. In honor of his recent Super Bowl performance, I'm going to start with Bad Bunny's YHLQMDLG. Feel free to send me your suggestions. 

Monthly: 1) I'm going to write my one review of something good that I think everyone should know about. 2) I'm going to revisit the monthly letter-writing campaign. I've realized over the last 2+ years that I do not necessarily want a bigger social group, but I don't want to lose contact with the one I have either. So, check your mailboxes.