With the beginning of the NFL season just around the corner and a new team taking the field in Los Angeles, I feel it is necessary to reflect on how sports are more about personal identity than they are about .
How old am I really? In theory, my birth on May 27, 1989, would make me 27, as of Aug. 28, 2016. (Kinda disappointed that people forgot the three-month anniversary of my 27th birthday on Saturday.) Journalists may not be the best at math, but .
My daughter is now an officially enrolled high school senior. And after a busy summer, my wife and I are feeling much closer to senior citizen status than we should. To be more specific, we’ve seemingly been going from .
Having grown up in Massachusetts a short drive from the coast, one of the things I miss, especially during the summer, is going to the beach. When I was around 4 or 5, I wanted to be an archaeologist. (I recently asked .
Wedding season is in full swing, and although I attended my only wedding of this year last weekend, I’m still pretty excited about it. My friend Kayla, whom I’ve known since eighth grade, got married last weekend, and .
Life hacks. It’s all about finding ways to game the system of life to your advantage. I stumbled across a pretty good one last weekend. I found a way to extend my three-day weekend into a five-day vacation. All .
I wanted to fill this space with aptonyms, the term for when a person’s name accurately describes their chosen profession, but I will admit I had some help compiling the list below. I announced the topic in a recent .
My dad was always one of those pretty manly guys. He grew up with three older brothers, and they tended to do lots of stereotypically masculine things: they played sports, they went hunting, they built stuff. In the summers, they .
There’s nothing I enjoy more in the summer than sitting on a park bench with a good book. Even though I’m three years out of school and now roughly as busy in the summer as I am any .
I’ve lived almost all of my life in Kansas, and if there is one thing I know Kansans can agree on, it’s this: tornados fascinate us just as much as they scare us. To me, tornados seem like .
A true Kansan, my first response upon hearing tornado sirens is to go outside and look at the sky. But I’m not crazy. I generally will spend less than a minute outside — just enough time to get an impending .
My dog, Scout, could never be a service dog. She’s definitely not disciplined enough to lead a blind person through the grocery store, for instance. She’s a little too hyper. A little too curious. She’d want to .
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