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TCI Friday

I'm trying to be wrong more. No. That's not right. I'm trying to be willing to be wrong more. Yeah. That's it. Without wading in too deep, and without triggering any of you


I am off the front of the field, just past the start/finish, pushed along by a tailwind that is doing more favors for me than the pack behind. I steal a quick look over my


The how of winning. There are books upon books about it. To win in sport, to win in money, to win in love. It's the satisfaction of desire, Freud's id, the breath we want at


I have a big, white ceramic bowl, whimsically asymmetrical in design, that sits on the shelf just above the potato chips, and that bowl holds a cornucopia of

The Noise of the Wind

I'd been riding the Rocky Mountains for weeks, long enough to have acclimated to riding at 7000 feet. Despite the late June date, the mornings were cool enough to make breath…


I sit in a chair in a circle with two dozen other students, a mix of graduate and undergraduate English students, fanned out around Marvin Bell, an acclaimed poet and the…

Among the Tires

Here at the bottom of the hollowit is twilight dark at noon.The redwoods rise, Manhattan office towerscrowding everything into shadow. This is the spot someone considered

TCI New Year

I owe you this. Last Friday I was up a snowy mountain trail looking for the better parts of my soul and letting the sweat evaporate from the top of my sweaty head, the evil

The End of the Ride

Years ago, shortly after I moved to New England, I got a piece of advice from a friend. He looked down at my bare legs and chuckled. I asked why he was laughing. I

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