33 and a Third

A snow day, a basement, and a turntable spinning time itself. Before everything was instant, there was a rhythm to waiting. Records played start to finish, stories unfolded one track at a time, and imagination filled the space in between. This piece explores the quiet ritual of vinyl, where a boy begins to choose his own signal, shaping not just what he hears, but who he becomes.

The Surreality of “Subreality”

Last week, I was reminiscing with some high school pals over the terrible songs my short-lived high school band produced, most notably “Subreality,” where my pathetic attempt at singing has turned the song into the stuff of legends. The guys regularly throw old lyrics back at me, and we’ll laugh at the absurdity. There, inContinue reading “The Surreality of “Subreality””