Next month I turn thirty-one years old. Last year when I entered my third decade of life, everything felt the same as it had before except for the intensifying joint pain and reliance on probiotics. When midnight rolled over into a new day and my thirties, I was already asleep (by choice) in a cabin in Naubinway, MI. Waking up in . . .
People love personalization-- something made just for them. An article in The Wall Street Journal a few days ago talked about that exact thing. As you know, companies use your data to figure out what you like. Now they are making custom mixes of stuff like shampoo, vitamins, and health drinks for people based on their preferences. . . .
I'll have a #nofilter martini with a twist
I recently read Cal Newport's new book, Digital Minimalism, and loved it. It reaffirmed some ideas I have tried to incorporate into my life over the last few years of social media mania. His explanations on why people are posting and waiting for likes, thumbs ups, and comments and how those things correlate to the apps that are . . .
He looked over the bottles behind the bar. They had multiplied since he stocked them last, but that was a long time ago. He was a patron now and the last drink of the night was always tricky. Through experience, he had learned what worked for him and what did not. As much as he enjoyed a whiskey before bed it never helped him come . . .
The old gas lamps reflected off the shiny brick streets due to the on and off rain. It always rained around this time of the year down here he thought. His leather soles echoed down the narrow streets in rhythmic staccato slaps. He had undertaken the futile task of tracking down the umbrella he started the night with but currently . . .
The sun was retiring earlier than it did yesterday. It was also the first day he had tied a scarf on before heading out. The leaves had a firm grip on their respective trees but they had begun to change into their more seasonally appropriate hues. Leaves are always so fashionable. In a few weeks, they would be crunching under his . . .
He was early to dinner and needed to kill some time. The friend he was meeting had a taste for hooch even stronger than his own. Sneaking in the usual martini was out of the question for now. Tonight was all about defense. He needed to make sure aspirin wasn't on the menu for breakfast.
The bartender who looked to be . . .