Summer Camp and Petty Crime in Prospect Park

During the summer, my local park turns into one massive summer camp. The baseball camp bleeds into the lacrosse camp bleeds into the Harry Potter camp bleeds into Percy Jackson Camp bleeds into the toddlers who pick at the grass and do singalongs bleeds into the Orthodox Jewish toddlers who pick and grass and do Orthodox Jewish singalongs.

Usually, I do my best to ignore them all as I take my daily walk, but one day last August I felt compelled to stop and watch an event that was unfolding on the main lawn.

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The Pros and Cons of Exercising in Public

I haven’t spent much time working out in gyms these past 6 years. This is probably because, in my brain, gym time = a large human telling me I’m a piece of shit unless I exceed my one rep max on the bench press like, right this fucking second.

One particularly bad lifting memory comes from my junior year of college. I was supposed to be doing some pull-ups with a weight vest on. Instead, I was staring into the distance. Someone from the baseball team snapped me out of it by asking if I was okay.

Instead of saying “yep!” like I normally would, I talked about a holocaust survivor I had just read about.

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Getting Over the Stigma of Making “Rash” Decisions

Back in June of 2015, I thought that I was going to be in Los Angeles for the rest of my life. My goal was to be a TV writer. Where else would I go? Why would I leave?

Within a month, I had answered those questions. I would go to Wisconsin, and I would leave because my priorities changed. I was fully committed to living simply, tending my future homestead and eating delicious cheese. There, in the spacious, affordable Midwest, I would stake my claim.

Not quite. After 6 months in the Badger State, my bags were packed and I was off to NYC. By this point, I was no longer sure where I would spend the rest of my life, but I figured I’d be there for at least a year. Two months later, I was on a flight to San Francisco to make my new home in the Bay Area.

A week after that, I had left SF and was traveling the streets of Sri Lanka, determined to make it as an amateur snake charmer. That’s not true, but there are people in my life who wouldn’t have been surprised.

I’ve been reflecting on what I’ve learned amidst all this moving. I thought I would jot down some thoughts.

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Book Reviews, Harvard Weightlifting Madness, Hollywood Sadness

Books I’ve Been Reading

The Electric Kool Aid Acid Test, by Tom Wolfe

This is a classic for anyone who truly wants to understand the origins of the psychedelic movement in the 1960’s. If you’ve ever done a psychedelic and been overly worried about set and setting (quiet room, trip guide, etc.) then this could be a good book to check out. To the originators of the whole movement, set and setting was far less important than partying as hard as possible at all times. The core group out of northern California was tripping 24/7 and tooling around the country in a tricked out party bus. It’s a great read. Ken Kesey is like Keith Richards, Rob Gronkowski and Jesus all wrapped into one.

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Why I’m Leaving Los Angeles for Wisconsin

About a month ago, I decided that I was moving out of Los Angeles. Everyone I’ve told has been surprised. The surprise turns to shock when I say I’m moving to Wisconsin.

The bewilderment stems from the fact that people in LA know the following things about Wisconsin:

1. It’s cold

2. The Green Bay Packers

3. Cheese

4. “Really, do you know how cold it is there?”

5.  Jeffrey Dahmer

You can see how convincing people of Wisconsin’s merits is an uphill battle. I wouldn’t move there if I thought all I’d be doing is shivering in my apartment, watching football, pounding string cheese and keeping an eye out for serial killers.

But, even if it wasn’t Wisconsin, I’d still be moving. So before I extol the virtues of the midwest, I’ll talk about why I’m leaving in the first place.

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