

The Most Monday Monday of All Time
I’ve noticed that when things go haywire, I like to have a schedule to cling to. This need has made these past week challenging, considering the fact that all sense of order and schedule is gone. I know other people are feeling this, but for me it’s particularly intense. Not only have I got the social distancing along with everyone else, but I’ve got one week left of medical leave because of the radiation. Even if work was open I couldn’t be there. And if that wasn’t enough,


Things That Bring Me Joy
I don’t normally take pictures of my food, but this morning I’m making an exception. I am fully convinced that everything in my life is because of the theatre. Today’s post is exa mple #673 of that fact. ______ I woke up this morning at 8:45 and was struck by the fact that I had no place to go. No school. No trip to Starbucks. Not even a church service to attend. Not that that is a radical departure for me. As readers of the blog know, I haven’t been attending church for the


Letter to Nikki Haley
Yesterday I was scrolling through twitter, and came across this tweet shared by my dear friend and artist and fellow South Carolinian Donnetta Lavinia Grays. It was something from the former Governor of South Carolina Nikki Haley. It said: These are the items included in the stimulus bill: $75 mill for public television/radio $25 mil for the Kennedy Center $75 mil for the Natl Endowment for the Arts $75 mill for the Natl Endowment for the Humanities How many more people could


Happy Opening Day. Oh Wait.
The first message I received this morning was from my dear friend Mat Smart. He was wishing Adam Knight and I “Happy Opening Day!” Or a “Happy Not Opening Day” to be more specific. The message stopped me in my tracks. I couldn’t believe it. I went to ESPN to double check and he was right. Today was the day. Or was supposed to be. There was an article about it and everything. A “Not Opening Day Power Ranking” of all the teams in the league. Normally I would have been all over


Normal...
Normal. I’ve been thinking about that word today. Last night before bed Jaimie and I each went to put on our shoes to take Andy outside. It took a moment before we realized that he was no longer here. Us taking him out had been so normal for so long. When we realized what we had done we stood and hugged each other instead. Where had he gone? Every where and yet, no where. He was here with us, as he always was. As he’d always be. This morning was steeped in normalcy, in spite


Wedding Post #1
Last Friday, on March 20, 2020, Jaimie and I got married. As expected, in a way. We had been planning on getting married on March 20 since late December. We just thought it was going to be the two of of us at the courthouse in Downtown Greenville. That was our plan. Yet there we were, at the end of the fifth floor of the St Francis Hospital, in the middle of a literal pandemic, surrounded by a room full of people we had known for less than a week. I’ve been sitting here think


The Grid. Or Somewhere Nearby.
Hi everyone, Jaimie & David here. It’s been a crazy week, and we thought we needed to update. There have been a lot of messages and texts that I know we haven’t responded to, so please forgive us for the delay. By the way, Jaimie is doing the writing here because David is pretty loaded up on drugs. That and he is dictating a bunch of jokes that I don’t think are funny so I’m not typing them. That makes me "rude" apparently so that’s fun. Love him. On Monday, David was admitte
I Wrote a Book!
I’ve written a book! You read that right. I have written a book. I didn’t plan to. It wasn’t my intention. But isn’t that what life is? The things we do while meaning to do something else? All I know is that I am really proud of it, and I can’t wait for everyone to read it. Here’s what happened: Back in 2016, Jaimie and I decided to leave Charleston. The problem is, there weren't that many places we could move. It’s not like we could settle in Sioux Falls, SD and let the ente


Silence.
Last night after the show I went and grabbed a burger and a Sprite at George’s, a dive bar next to the theatre where the fiction writers hang out. This is not to be confused with Foxhead, the poetry bar on the other side of Gilbert Street. The Foxhead is cash only, and in our crazy, mixed up, jumbled up world, a poetry bar that doesn’t accept credit cards somehow makes complete and total sense. The show had been amazing. It wasn’t a big crowd, maybe 50 people, but they came t


Ready, Set, Dubuque
Today is my three year anniversary. On March 5, 2017, I was awakened at the crack of dawn and taken to the operating room at Emory University for surgery. Dr. Sharma removed a 9 centimeter tumor from my large intestine, a damaged part of my small intestine, and forty lymph nodes. Since that was the first step in my getting better, the start of this process of healing, I mark today as my anniversary. But today’s post isn’t about that. Today’s post is about Dubuque, Iowa. One o