The Secret to a Great Hug

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It’s fun­da­men­tal, instinc­tive and, when done prop­erly, it feels really good. Call it a hug, an embrace, squeeze or just pull the other per­son in close, but what’s hap­pen­ing is sim­ple in mean­ing and com­plex in style. It’s pos­si­ble to do it poorly, but no one deserves that. Read more…


Hardwood, Hardwork


I bought a house.  It had white car­pet (except for the stains), white walls, white ceil­ings — a blank canvas.

I set about to change that. I bit off more than I could chew. I thought about giv­ing up.

I’m glad I didn’t, but that doesn’t mean I loved the process.

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My Magical, Evil Pockets


I don’t know how I get so lucky, but every pair of pants I own, EVERY SINGLE PAIR, is magical.

Yes. Mag­i­cal.

I know what you must be think­ing, but I assure you, it’s not related to how good my tuckus looks. (But thank you) Read more…


New Year’s Eve-Olution


More than two decades of New Year’s Eves — span­ning shenani­gans and et cetera — and I can’t really remem­ber any one in par­tic­u­lar. I bore wit­ness to the new mil­len­nium, except I can’t quite say where or what I saw. The most recent are more dis­cernible, but even those details are a bit foggy. Not likely from age and only partly due to ine­bri­a­tion; for all the plan­ning, the dry-cleaning, the buildup and the count­down, res­o­lu­tions and 12 o’clock kisses shared and missed, it would seem that if each new year were a race, we make a point to daw­dle and linger at the start.

What did you do in 2007? In 2008? 1996? Read more…


That Social Stranger


Aside from the ride on my ego that is, and in light of the fact that I spent a cool three months with­out access to the Inter­net, you should feel free to fol­low the ongo­ing events on Twit­ter and Face­book.

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Motor City to Motor-Less City: I Moved to Mackinac Island


After work­ing and liv­ing in Metro Detroit for just under a year-and-a-half, I’ve recently moved five hours, or 280-some miles, north — to Mack­inac Island.

For those of you who aren’t aware, Mack­inac Island is an island just under four-square-miles in Lake Huron. It was the U.S.A’s sec­ond National Park (Yel­low­stone was the first), it pro­duces fudge as often as many of us breath in and out in a day and it is replete with horses and bicy­cles… because on Mack­inac Island there are no cars.

Read more…


The Other Drivers Are a Bunch of Clowns


The amount of time I spend dri­ving is sel­dom spent think­ing about dri­ving. That’s not to say I’m not pay­ing atten­tion. Dri­ving just cre­ates so many dis­tract­ing sit­u­a­tions. Read more…


Honor Thy Father


The annual June week­end ded­i­cated to Fathers is great. Dad appre­ci­ates the neck­tie, weed whacker and funny card with a mon­key on it look­ing for the remote control.

But what Dad really likes is hang­ing out with you. Read more…

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