
The Death of the Middle Class: A Tragedy in Three Acts
Once upon a time, the middle class was the American Dream incarnate.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of January 5, 2025
Solitude is a sure way to avoid pain. I’ve waded in those waters before. Specifically with romance. But life is and must be a balance. Be flexible. Go with resistance. Be satisfied with life even it has you feeling the way you don’t want to feel. Protect yourself, push yourself. Balance. Survive. Find little ways to thrive in big ways.

Self-Care: A Misunderstood Act of War
You can’t pour from an empty cup, right? Well, you also can’t create, connect, or inspire when you’re running on fumes.
I Believe… [AI Roast]
...that having ChatGpt roast you is a wonderful window into how potentially full of shit you are. It is a dispassionate revealer of how you appear to the online world and stings while pulling the veil aside.
Notes From the Post-it Wall | Week of December 29, 2024
Jimmy Carter’s greatest failing is that he was too good a man to be President of the United States.

The Perils of Excess: When Liberal Progress Overreaches
“It isn’t that people don’t want progress. They just don’t want so much of it all at once.”

New Year’s Resolutions: A Savage Journey to the Heart of Self-Delusion
The concept of the New Year’s resolution is as American as apple pie and arterial blockages—a ritualistic spectacle of good intentions dressed up in cheap tinsel and wishful thinking.
I Believe… [Googly Eyes]
...that ownership and use of Googly Eyes as a man approaching 60 is a sign of an absolute refusal to grow old. Older, sure. Not old.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of December 22, 2024
Having a good set of lips to kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve won’t ensure you a great year, but it’s a helluva good start.
I Believe… [The Reese’s Takeover]
...that, if taken through the lens of truck stops and gas stations throughout the Midwest, Reese’s has taken over the world.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of December 15, 2024
Christmas is a time for giving, being with family and friends, and hating every other asshole out there in the shops and on the roads also trying to spread joy and share in the Christmas spirit. Similarly, Hanukkah is a time for Jewish people to desperately try to feel relevant during Christmastime.

ON SOLO TIME
There’s a weird and persistent cultural myth that being alone is inherently bad—like solitude is something that happens to you, not something you choose.
I Believe… [Follow the Money]
...that the most body positive corporations on the planet are McDonald’s, Frito-Lay, and Kraft.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of December 8, 2024
The world is my oyster. But I’m allergic to shellfish.

New Life Order
The wire is tight and high.
The risk is apparent.
The reward is not.
There’s a darkness that makes the bright days sulk.
There’s a gripping fear of vast opportunity choked by diminutive time.
There’s a restlessness that exhausts all inspiration.
I Believe… [Love Actually?]
...that my favorite part of Love Actually (which, mind you, is like declaring my favorite part of a Sizzler sald bar) is the story about the aging rockstar who realizes he’d rather spend Christmas with his loyal friend than party with Elton John.

Jackie Walsh
From the porch, the two men listened to the thundering bass of rumbling trucks on journeys north and south along the Dan Ryan Expressway. To the west, Halsted teased out the melodies of car horns beeping and tires squealing, a harsh cacophony of symphonic summer street noises.
They smoked their tobacco.
Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of December 1, 2024
Everyone hates their significant other’s therapist.

On Gratitude
But gratitude isn’t just about the big, existential stuff. It’s also in the details—the smell of gasoline on a cold morning, the sting of whiskey after a long day, the way the world looks at 4:00am when you’re too wired to sleep.

Dishing Out A Lesson in Politeness
“Great!” I said, still smiling. “I’ll get that for you right away.” And then I leaned a little and let my smile fade. “And if you ever snap your fingers at any of our staff again, I will personally escort both of you out of here and you will not be welcome back again. Ever.” Both of their faces went from smug to surprised. Like they’d never been told “no” before or, more to the point, like they’d never been called out for being unnecessarily rude. I straightened up, brought my smile back and said, “Just the cheese? Anything else right now?”
Little bricks build a big house. And little problems build a strong case for losing your mind, burning your life down, and ending up speaking tongues to yourself on Lower Wacker.