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A Target Shelf, a House-Elf, and a Memory
She actually squeaked when she spotted Dobby sitting on a shelf in Target. Give her a character who’s misunderstood, picked on, beaten down, or carrying some emotional weight that nudges them toward bad choices, and she latches on instantly—like a mother desperate to protect her child. We never had kids—by mutual decision early in our…
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The Catharsis of Noise: Finding Peace in Punk After Loss
As I was processing my wife’s death, I listed to a lot of music. TOOL helped me process the anger and guilt, Pink Floyd made me look inward,and RUSH connected me to better times of my youth. John Denver and the singer-song writers of the 70’s connected me to Katy; she loved Jim Croce. I…
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When a Band Tee Was My Armor
Here’s a hot take to mull over this weekend: genres make adolescence survivable. After that, they don’t carry quite the same weight. I should admit this entire argument was born out of a three-hour plus conversation with an old friend last night. After stuffing ourselves with Greek food from a newly discovered Uber option, we…
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The Conversation Outlived Her
The hardest part of grief right now isn’t the sadness. It’s the silence. The sadness is still there. It always is. But now that the chaos has settled, now that the noise of survival isn’t quite so loud, I find myself missing the conversation. Missing my co‑conspirator. Talking with Katy was never difficult. We skipped…
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Children of the Corn — Would She Have Liked It?
My wife and I were both Stephen King fans. Katy was already neck‑deep in King’s world when we met. I was more of a casual reader. Caught up on the essentials, dipping into some deep cuts and the non‑horror titles. Somewhere along the way, it stopped being about catching up to what she’d read. It…
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She Knew I’d Get Here
I heard “The Story” by Brandi Carlile for the first time today. Not “first time” like I’d never heard it before. Katy and I were fans. Well, Katy was the real fan. I was more of a casual participant. Still, Brandi’s music lived in the background of our life. Car rides. Target aisles. Saturday mornings.…
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Braveheart: Same Movie, Less Pull
Katy loved Braveheart. I mean, she deeply loved this film. Like a lot of Gen Xers, my wife Katy worked two jobs in her twenties. One of them was as a video rental clerk. She saw Braveheart in theaters three times, and when it landed on the in store rotation, she was the only employee…
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This Is Me Editing the Noise
A Small Shift If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you might notice things feel a little different going forward. That’s intentional. This space is slowing down and narrowing its focus. Less reacting. More revisiting. More reflection. Going forward, this blog will adopt the same structure and sensibility as Rewatch / Replay (my…
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Talking Grief
I’m not a therapist—just someone navigating grief and a job search out loud. If you’re in need of help, please use professional support channels designed for that care.Crisis Text Line: Text HOME to 741741 (24/7). Heads up, friends—this is a long one. Grief talks to you.It has a voice. If left to its own devices,…
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You Look Brighter
Today, my therapist told me that I “looked brighter.” As I sat down in my usual spot, I kept thinking about that—about what it meant, and how it made me feel. In perfect Dr. Melfi fashion, she asked me: How do you feel about looking brighter? It felt like a kind of confirmation. Maybe I’m…
Rewatch / Replay 