None of it was personal — and yet all of it was personal. — I couldn’t wait to read my abuse. Sick, right? But when this post started to pick up momentum, most of it was vitriol-loaded. Dismissive of my views, critical of my examples and points. God, I loved it. Not because I love punishment. Because it was a discussion. Not once did…

Save the pity party for your own agenda. — When I was young, I dreamed of becoming an NFL quarterback. My hero: Jim Zorn, of the Seattle Seahawks. The ‘Hawks were lovable losers, playing in a huge, noisy dome with cool silver helmets with the NFL’s coolest logo on the side. My bond was fierce with this free-wheeling, floppy-haired…

Nice People Gave Me Breaks Along the Way. I Wish They Hadn’t. — I know you mean well. And I know that no matter how hard we try, or how easily we just get along and meld with each other, in school, at work, as couples, as friends … we will always have fundamental differences. Our people are just in different places, although…

Have you ever looked up the origin of something … and wish you hadn’t? I have. I could have dove right into the meat of this post. Just, cut the fat and got down to the nitty-gritty. See, back in 1981 — when we were all whistling the Raiders of…

You get my age, you spend some time with folk. It’s impossible to categorize, 100%, good and bad. Think of something you’re proud of that you did. Like, rescuing that turtle from the country road. Good on you. Now, think of something you’re not proud of at all. Like, when…

It’s ironic for a dude like me — with a to-do list dustier than the Cleveland Browns’ trophy case — to write about writing on Medium. I haven’t posted since Sept. 10. I want to, the same way some of you want to keep up this days-long gym habit. Or want to give up downing full-sized almond Hershey bars like they were the fun-size versions. It just hasn’t happened. Life is one gigantic and convenient excuse…

I bought a bag of candy corn. This coincides with a promise to myself to cut out flour and sugar. Well, more than 5 ounces of sugar per serving. Turns out with my rudimentary math skills, three kernels (does that term apply to candy corn?) …

I got fired from the last newspaper job I’d ever held. This isn’t earth-shattering or even surprising to those who knew me. I’d had moments of promise. I wrote better than my editors at most of the papers I worked for. I crafted compelling headlines. …

I see you. Everyone does. But it’s the way you handle the way they see you that made me want to talk to your manager. He’s not surprised I praised you. He sees what I see: Patience, empathy, strength. When others see you, they ask the same questions. How old…