Did I ever mention I have a podcast?

 Hello, bloglings! (Ugh, off to a terrible start...)

I apologize for not posting much content here as of late. I've been focusing much of my creative energy on writing, producing, and editing a podcast, called Jimmy Spins a Yarn.

The podcast is hosted by my dad, Jimmy. The show features him telling stories from throughout his life, along with scattered comedic (and emotional) bits, along with sound effects and music. 

Also, I occasionally make a cameo, if that sounds enticing.

Jimmy Spins a Yarn can be found on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and most of the other major places where podcasts frolic.

(Our most recent holiday episode can also be found here if you want a link that's quick and convenient.)

Happy listening and happy holidays! (if you're into that sort of thing.)

She Waits

On Halloween night, while you were trick-or-treating and merrymaking with friends and family, She watched you in silence.

You kept a lookout for Her in every darkened corner, but She was already ten steps ahead.

You heard whispers that She has a billion eyes under every bed and in every closet; Her maw is filled with jagged rows of razor-sharp teeth.

Her howl is a primal curse bellowed from the deepest pits of eternity.

When the clock struck midnight on All Hallows’ Eve, you sighed in relief as you removed the talismans of protection you bought from that cloaked stranger in a smoke-filled tavern.

But the stranger neglected to warn you: Her power doesn’t diminish beyond the borders of Halloween.

No. Her multi-tentacled silhouette is at its most dangerous during the darkest months and in the coldest shadows.

All of Her previous victims have been long devoured. Yours is the final soul inscribed upon Her ancient tongues.

Be wary, and keep your loved ones close. 

Because now, all She wants for Christmas...

...is you.

Birthday Gratitudes

On Tuesday, July 4, 1978, my exceedingly pregnant mother was attending a festive family cookout by the lake.

In a case of hilariously bad timing, just as she was getting settled into the lake’s warm and comfortable water—hers broke.

Apparently, in what would be the first of many terrible decisions I’ve made throughout my life, I decided to make my grand debut a week ahead of schedule.

I’ve always had a suspicion that at this moment Dad looked forlornly down at his freshly assembled plate of potato salad and bellowed a curse that would make a hardened pirate politely suggest he “tone it down,” but this is mere speculation on my part.

It was a full moon, so the hospital was full of women in labor. Only one doctor was on duty due to it being a holiday, so he gave Mom something to make her delay the painful inconvenience of my impending premier, and thus I missed sharing a birthday with the Declaration of Independence by a mere 33 minutes.

On Wednesday, July 5th, 2023, a slightly older me reflects on how blessed, amazing, and surprising life has been so far. Although I’m still trying to figure out exactly what I’m supposed to “be” in this life, I am beginning to suspect maybe that isn’t really the point of the journey. If we’re lucky, we get to “be” many different things to many different people along the way. We get to “be” many different versions of ourselves.

I like to think am a better version of myself today because of the souls I’ve encountered throughout the years. I’ve learned more from each of you than you know; I am eternally grateful for the chance to continue to evolve and grow.

Empathy, turns out, teaches the greatest lessons of all.

It is an honor to take this journey with all of you.

Incidentally, I think I still owe Dad a potato salad.