Now it’s an omnipresent, overtly cutesy pop culture punchline, but 20 years ago “Road House” was a superlative goofball classic that was absolute catnip to my 13-year-old mind. I was way too young to see it, but that never stopped me before. The explosion of redneck defiance, Sam Elliot’s spot-on impression of KY jelly, freewheeling sexuality, scorching Jeff Healey Band blues, and Patrick Swayze’s Zen-like barroom-busting badassery probed deep into my virginal soul. It was mesmerizing: a bloodied, battered Penthouse Letter brought to life and ready to yank out your voice box. I had never witnessed a picture like it before.
The summer of '89, in handy 2009 form!
Back in December 2016, I wrote this, called “Soup.” You can write poems about anything, and I decided to write a poem about soup. And because I…
“Luckily many [whales] know how to be gentle. “(This is somehow a real fact and not a detail of a Chuck Tingle novel.)”
Video. Talking on camera. I…I haven’t used it much; I haven’t done it much. I decided to change that. Now that my new tablet has enough ability to…