I had to come sit outside. Away from TV, my phone, music in the kitchen. Just the moon, a few stars, some wispy clouds and the soft lights of our front porch. It had been a gorgeous day, and it was still warmer than you’d expect for a late-March evening in Pittsburgh. I didn’t know… Read More i wasn’t ready.
When my Element — my 10-year-old, 245,000-miles-on-it Element — ran into a deer two weeks ago, I was crestfallen. Though I was able to drive it home, the damage was bad, and I assumed that our insurance company would total the best car I’ve ever owned. But as I found out just a day later,… Read More 3. out of my element.
A few years ago, I told you the story of getting a birthday present from Tiffany for Mrs. Crappy — and the subsequent discovery that carrying a bag from Tiffany through Ross Park Mall was the surest way to get noticed by women I had ever seen. Over the weekend, Mrs. Crappy discovered the male… Read More pied piper.
I never really believed that blogging was work. Until recently — sometime last year, I guess — it wasn’t. I open this blog several times a week, with plenty of ideas for posts, like, say, the Urban Garden Party at the Mattress Factory (Oh my god awesome), our Phish shows at Star Lake and Blossom… Read More in just a little bit.
Apparently, I am one of those people.
I used to give myself a massive case of the heebie-jeebies as I drove between Athens and Pittsburgh when Mrs. Crappy was still in school. Between Marietta and Belpre, there is a series of industrial plants — power plants and chemical plants, mainly — and especially at night, driving by the hulking scaffolds and towers… Read More freaking.
Uncle Crappy 