The problem with maniacs is that you can’t reason with them. They lack perspective and all sense of proportion. They dwell so hard on the small things that the bigger picture gets obscured. I know, because all summer I’ve been menaced by a lunatic who’s gone to extraordinary lengths to rain misery on everyone around him.
Meet Joe, a developmentally disabled alcoholic who’s spent much of his adult life in and out of prison for crimes ranging from multiple drunk drivings to burglary. Joe and my sister were dating and living at my father’s house when I returned from Philly… Continue Reading Category Archives: The Howl
Maniacs, and the Women Who Love Them
The problem with maniacs is that you can’t reason with them. They lack perspective and all sense of proportion. They dwell so hard on the small things that the bigger picture gets obscured. I know, because all summer I’ve been menaced by a lunatic who’s gone to extraordinary lengths to rain misery on everyone around him.
Meet Joe, a developmentally disabled alcoholic who’s spent much of his adult life in and out of prison for crimes ranging from multiple drunk drivings to burglary. Joe and my sister were dating and living at my father’s house when I returned from Philly… Continue Reading 4 Places to Visit Before I Die
As much as I’ve traveled I’ve never left America. Pathetic, right? Earlier this year I was eyeing an autumn excursion to Vietnam, then became curious about South America. Now I’m a food vendor with festivals lined up pretty much into October. But my appetite for foreign soil has been anything but satiated. In fact, after coming very close to purchasing a plane ticket to Bogota, Columbia – the would be jump off point for a South American adventure – I’m a tad regretful that I opted instead to plunk my change into a mobile food vending business, an idea… Continue Reading Crowne Plaza’s War on Snoring
I’m a noisy sleeper. I admit it.
A lifelong snorer and teeth grinder, my restless, racket-inducing sleep has been a flashpoint in many relationships, spurring many nights on the couch. More times than I can count I’ve sprang awake gasping for air after the chick next to me pinched closed my nose in a futile bid for peace and quiet. Once while at a conference in Minneapolis my buddy actually got his own hotel room after being unable to sleep through my snores and teeth grinding.
Surely I feel bad about robbing people of their sleep, but there is… Continue Reading Donut Dreams
So this is what my life has come to. I’m now a donut ball vendor.
The idea originated with my friend Life during a discussion on ways to make money legally while traveling. She spent a significant part of her life hitchhiking America and, for a brief time, she, myself and two others lived on a school bus. Those adventures ended when she got married, had twins and was forced to become an adult. But her desire to travel has never waned. But how does a single mother of twins support a family on the road?
“Donuts,” she suggested.
It… Continue Reading A Stranger in the Hometown
Now that summer is winding down I’m finally making preparations to decamp Madison, where I returned to in May intending to remain for a only week or two. As it happened, I was asked by my editor to poke around the life of a guy who’d recently hung himself in the jail here and ended up writing a 3,100-word feature on the guy’s bizarre legal odyssey.
Then the editor left the paper and I was asked to assist in filling the news hole while they searched for his replacement. Nearly an entire summer later, the new news editor has… Continue Reading
Operation Stash Recovery
Madison, WI – Yesterday morning I received a text from my friend Nick Mortensen telling me that his apartment complex was on fire. After waking to a knocking on the door, he saw the the fire trucks outside, but didn’t hear any smoke alarms. No one even yelled ‘Fire!’ Nonetheless, he grabbed some things and went to the club for a workout. By the time he returned, flames had engulfed the roof of the building.
One of the things I like most about Nick is that he doesn’t sweat the small shit. By the end of the day, after he’d… Continue Reading This Bud’s for You, Dad
My father, for most of his life, operated a printing press. He was also a de facto brand evangelist for Anhueser-Busch. The same way some men wear cufflinks, my dad, you could say, wore a Budweiser. When I think of him, I don’t see his face, but rather him gripping a can of Bud.
Of the things my father passed onto me nothing has given me greater pleasure than his love for beer. If it’s truly every parents desire to see their children better off than they, my father should be pleased that by the time I reached legal… Continue Reading Sidetracked in Madison
So, I feel really bad neglecting my duties here at The Feral Scribe. As you may have guessed from the dateline, I’m still in Madison. I’m awaiting decisions that will assist me in figuring out what to do with my life.
Earlier this week I had a job interview that may or may not have gone well (I can never tell). It was one of those rare opportunities that I jumped at, though I’m pretty sure I’ll be edged out by someone with more experience. A decision will likely soon be made, at which time I’ll know whether I’m here… Continue Reading Home Sweet Home
Madison, WI – I’ve been back home for nearly a month now. The plan was to drop off my belongings, which I hauled back from Philly, then head south along the Mississippi to New Orleans. Based on the destruction from the gazillion tornadoes that have torn through Missouri and other states, I’d argue the decision to not leave right away was somewhat fortuitous. Although, I am pretty certain the new ultra-wide angle lens I purchased this week would’ve captured the destruction well.
I began working on a cover story for Madison’s weekly tabloid for both the cash and the glory.… Continue Reading 
Goals: Past & Present