Book Ideas List

October 21, 2018

I’ve been busy lately and haven’t had much time to write. Truthfully, I’ve also felt rundown and tired. I’ve lacked all confidence and motivation. Social interaction has been a struggle. I feel old. My son started high school this year! I look in the mirror and see this aging man who was once full of life. Anyway, I don’t mean to be a downer. I know I’ll bounce out of this lull, and will soon be ready to write with a renewed sense of vigor. In the meantime, and as a way to stay productive, I’ve been compiling a list of possible future book/article ideas:

Ever-Fleeting Joy

How Gaming Ruined My Son and Tore My Family Apart

99 Ways to Fail Gracefully

99 Ways to Fail Gracefully in Business

99 Ways to Fail Gracefully at Exercise (The “Fail Gracefully” motif would go on and on to maybe be a really big hit series of books. Doubtful though, if I’m being honest…)

99 Easy Ways to Make Your Teenage Son Hate You

99 Ways to Annoy Your Family and Friends

A Man’s Guide to Sleeping on the Couch

99 Ways to Avoid Confrontation

Popularity is Overrated, but how Would I Know

99 Ways to Avoid Talking to People

How to Avert Attention in Awkward Situations

Fond Memories: My Sex Life Before Having Children

Growing Up Ugly: A Memoir

99 Ways to Conceal a Receding Hairline

A Man’s Guide to Suffering

Two Decent Sex Positions for Men with Small Penises (This is more of a short story.)

The Many Benefits of the AARP

Black Actually Isn’t as Slimming as You Think

Life in the Fast Lane: A Self Help Book for Slow People

You’ll Never Really Conquer Your Fears so Just Accept It

Sports You’ll Never be Great At (This is just a basic sports reference book.)

Everyone Dies and it Could Happen Today

Why are Your Children so Embarrassed by You?

There’s Hair in my Ears!

It’s Okay to Weep Uncontrollably

Men Are From Mars, Women Now Find You Repulsive

99 More Easy Ways to Make Your Teenage Son Hate You

Sex and Sleep Apnea Machines

Ever-Fleeting Joy, Part II

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Dusty Boots

December 16, 2017

my grandfather’s bones

are in the ground

still his dusty boots

wait patiently by the back door

longing to feel useful again

Old Photo Albums

December 5, 2017

Thumbing through old photo albums

I see monochrome ghosts in the prime of their lives

Smiling

Laughing

A gleam in their eyes

Soon to be memories in a dusty book

Future Journals

November 29, 2017

someday

sooner than later

if I had to guess

during drought and wildfire

heatwave and hurricane

as bullets rain down

and blood floods the cracks in our sidewalks

between bomb sirens’ warnings and evacuated streets

while tv news broadcasts promote hate, fear, death

when no one is looking

when no one expects

we’ll enjoy our morning coffee

take our children to the park

drink beers with our friends

and sing along to the radio

young dreamers will still write about falling in love

eternally hopeful for a future so improbable

their journals one day to be found

preserved in our rubble

allowing distant historians to know

the truth

The Ignorance of Youth

November 17, 2017

when you start catching glimpses of your father’s face

reflected in the mucky shop windows you pass each day downtown

— and if you haven’t yet, you will —

Mortality is suddenly that annoying frat brother from college

not so long ago

getting his ever-pubescent jollies

by razzing you about the ignorance of Youth

unaware that

if nothing more

Youth was your one true friend

Memory From a Past Life

November 12, 2017


In some past life I vividly recall sprinting in fear through a field of land mines just before dawn.

I came to a sudden halt when the light crested over the horizon, and through the smoky mist, a stunning orange sky began to slowly win the battle against the blackness that had been surrounding me.

Tiny pieces of sun flickered off the dewey amber grass, revealing the many bodies of fresh young troops lying near — damp and dead — frozen in time. 

Looking around I saw things you would never want to see. 

Things you don’t want to know. 

Things I refuse to tell. 

I ached with guilt for finding such peaceful beauty in this devastating scene. I sobbed hard, forever changed, as no man should ever have to be. 

No longer noticing the stench of decay, I inhaled deep cleansing wafts of the country air. I wiped the sweat and tears from my filthy face, feeling a bewildering sense of hope. 

A defiant step forward was misplaced, and my arms and legs were suddenly gone. I remember enjoying the sunrise a few short moments longer. 

Despite everything then and since, somewhere — hidden deep away– I still manage to carry some hope today. 

The Leaves 

November 8, 2017


the green leaves 

play hide and seek between branches

dance in spring winds

and lounge the dog days away

enjoying each other’s shade…

clinging together in cold rain

they find close friends 

and take a lover — 

content in their little tree…

so quickly they age

turning brittle and gray 

they begin to fall 

until only one remains

alone for the first time

he nervously waits

grasping with all his might —

though he can’t quite say why

soon a gentle breeze 

forces his fate 

no one left to tell goodbye