I believe we’ve all had this situation: We’re in bed with our loved one, looking at our phones, and we come across a meme we find applicable to our lives. We tap our partner on the shoulder, show them the meme, they shake their head and laugh, and then we go back to doing our heroin. Sound familiar?? I love a good a meme. Last night after Jaimie and I watched The Bachelor (don’t hate, appreciate) we scrolled through a compilation of the best memes from the episode. My favorit

On Sunday when my buddy texted me that Kobe Bryant had died, I almost started to cry. And I am not one who cries. I wish I did. Damn it feels good. But for some reason whenever I get to the verge, whenever I feel the tears start to well up inside me, something stops it dead in its tracks. Yet Sunday, when I checked ESPN to confirm my buddy’s text, a knot formed in my throat. I was shocked. How was I alive, and Kobe Bryant wasn’t. ______ Theatre wasn’t my first dream. It was c

Tomorrow I’ll write about Kobe. Today, I’m writing about nipple tape. That is a not a phrase I type often. I don’t particularly like the word nipple. Or the word tape. And no this blog has not taken a turn for the erotic. It hasn’t gone from an in depth look at the hopeful moments of life to an exploration of BDSM. You see, I want to give people an inside look. To pull back the curtain. What’s it really like to face a life altering diagnosis and years and years of treatment.

Rage. Pure unadulterated rage. And no, I didn’t read one of the president’s tweets. This rage came the old fashioned way. It came from the road. My parents’ live in Pebble Creek. It’s a subdivision in the northern part of Greenville County. They’ve lived there for almost 30 years. The main thoroughfare for Pebble Creek is Stallings Road. I have driven Stallings Road at least 10,000 times. I know it like the back of my hand. I could drive it with my eyes closed. I know every t

Blog change coming up! At the end of this month, I'm taking my back catalog off line. I'll have two weeks worth up at a time, and if you are a Patreon you'll have access to the entire bunch. So I'm going to be re-posting some favorites. Today's is from last summer. It's about a Reiki healing circle. Hope you enjoy. And become a Patreon! ___________ June, 2019 How did I end up here? How did I end up on a massage table, in a trailer, in a valley of the Bitterroot Mountains na

In honor of Martin Luther King Day, I’m keeping today’s blog short. I want to spend some time thinking about why I have today off. What does it mean for a man to be assassinated for his work? A man younger than I am. Thanks to his impact and the fact that we only see him in black and white, I can forget that he was only 39 years old when he died. It’s so easy for people who look like me to trick ourselves into believing that we don’t have a race problem in this country. Or if

I taught at 8am this morning. Yesterday was fourth graders. Today it’s 8am. I know what some of you are thinking: Davey- when did you anger the Gods? I didn’t anger the Gods. In fact these lovely humans are the students of my dear friend Anne, and I am covering for her while she is in New York on a field trip. Still, these classes are outside of my comfort zone and as a good daily blogger I look for inspiration wherever I can. The kids yesterday were fine. I blocked a scene f

I always expect that we’re going to have a good time. Maybe that’s my problem. This week I had treatment down in Atlanta. Before I got it, however, I had to get an echocardiogram. You see, while the treatment might save my life, it could also screw up my heart. So every three months I’ve got to get that ultrasound goo rubbed all over my chest and lie there like Kate Winslet getting her picture drawn in the Titanic so they can take a look into the recesses of my heart. That wa

“Schadenfreude is the death of karma” -Something I heard somewhere once _______ I watched the National Championship game last night. Well, most of it. I turned it off after they took a touchdown away from Clemson on a weak offensive pass interference call. At that point I saw where the game was headed, and I can’t stomach seeing people from Louisiana happy. I was pulling for Clemson. This is a relatively new turn of events for me. And no, I am not one of these bandwagoners. I

Jaimie and I saw a play over the weekend. We saw The Heath at the Warehouse Theatre. It was about the life and death of playwright Lauren Gunderson’s grandfather, and the effect he had on her life. The role of Lauren was played (and originated) by my high school friend and Patreon of this blog, Miranda Barnett! Her acting and singing and banjo playing, yes banjo playing, were all tremendous. It was the work of a fully realized artist. It made me feel honored to know her. The