So I’ve been working overnight and weekends for the last 4 months. I manage 80 people who pick and pack your produce and we then send it conveniently to your house the next day. It’s weird working these hours. My internal clock is all over the place. It’s reverse normal people hours. My lifestyle has…

I was sitting at a lunch table this past Saturday as a volunteer at Comfort Zone SoCal when a camper, who wasn’t my little, opened up to me. “I’m nervous about talking about my Dad’s death. It’s hard to talk about. People won’t understand. It’s different.” “What do you mean? How is it different?” “People…

Today it’s 4 years since my mom died. That is 4 years my sisters and I haven’t had either of our parents. In September, it’ll be 33 years without our dad. Here are some thoughts around today. 1) I miss her unconditional love. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes it was conditional. But over-arching those moments,…

In June, I turned to my wife and said, “So, I haven’t had a drink in six months.”She replied, “That’s great! I’ve done that—for nine months. Twice!”I said, “Oh? When?”There was a long silence.“When I was pregnant… with our kids…”“Oh yeah…” I replied.Once again, women doing it backwards and in heels. As of last weekend,…

I don’t really remember why, but when I was in middle school my Mom connected me with a guidance counselor at St. John’s whose wife had just died. She had cancer I think, and it was a painful and drawn out process. Mr. Harper had bought a house in 3rd Ward. He was fully renovating…

I am no saint. I am not perfect. But I know this. And I have a code. It evolves. It has changed. But it is my character and it is something that I know in instances where it needs to be defined. I try to adhere to my code. One time, when I was living…

My mom and I had a special relationship. I think all mothers and sons do. Since I was her only son and the last remnant of my father (and so named), she was willing to tell me her secrets. Not all of them, but some. No one tells all. My mom had an abortion before…

I once met a bad man—or at least, he hinted at it. I was in college, and he lived in a guesthouse behind some friends’ off-campus home. I remember he had “Houston” tattooed on the inside of one arm and “Texas” on the other. One night, we were all hanging out at my friend’s place—drinking,…

I’ve been in two car accidents in my life. One happened a week after my father died; the other occurred while I was in college. Both happened in a similar way—being hit by an oncoming car as I was crossing under an overpass. The first accident happened when I was nine, shortly after my dad’s…

As I passed a local funeral home, I ran through a back parking lot shared with several small stores—mainly bodegas. It’s L.A., so a mix of all kinds of shops. I recently found out there’s even a trap shop there, just a couple hundred feet from a police station. I stopped as I rounded the…