The [early] locomotives put forth so much smoke that the downwind side of the tracks was less desirable, and it generally was on the poor side of town, thus the phrase "the wrong side of the tracks".

From Nothing Like It In The World

I do not want any Catholic to vote for me because I am a Catholic. But on the other hand, I have the right to say that any citizen of this country that believes I am capable of steering the ship of state safely through the next four years, and votes against me because of my religion, he is not a real, pure, genuine American.

-Presidential Nominee Al Smith, 1928

One Day I went to Work with Nick and Nirmegh

One day I went to work with Nick and Nirmegh. Nirmegh was our high school ski coach, and is a bit of a jack-of-all-trades, for example I bought my firewood from him this past year. He and Nick were working on the foundation of a house out by Red Rocks Park. I guess there was some water damage and the owner was looking to fix it, most likely on the cheap. One day that summer, I went with Nick and helped out.

They had dug a trench around the house to get at the foundation. The house was supported with wooden beams in the basement. They had also dug a trench from the house down the backyard to allow water to drain away. The trenches were maybe five feet deep, and were dug by hand, either because it was more cost-effective that way, or because they're just wasn't room for excavation equipment. It may have been the latter; it was a small area back there. The ground was almost entirely clay. I can’t imagine how much effort it had taken to dig all that clay.

Our job that day was to mix concrete for the foundation and to fill the drainage ditch with crushed stone. We transported the stone from Nirmegh’s truck bed with a wheelbarrow and shoveled and dumped it in the drainage trench. Let me tell you, a wheelbarrow full of stone is a heavy item. I'm not sure how many truck-beds full there were, at least two.

And then we mixed concrete. I carried bags of concrete mix over my shoulder and mixed them with hose-water. Again, I'm not sure how many bags there were, I can only say that there was always one more.

After a few hours of hauling, shoveling, and jumping in and out of truck beds and ditches, I was spent. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't that I was out of shape, lazy, or weak-willed; it was that Nick did not stop. When we finished unloading a truck-bed of stone, Nick quickly told Nirmegh to go get more. I wanted to slap him. Isn’t that enough?

I don't remember every detail about that day; we must have taken a break for lunch at some point but I don't remember. What I do remember is that we never stopped, we didn't take breaks. That sort of work requires breaks; it's exhausting. When I got home I felt like I’d been continually beaten for hours. I was more physically exhausted than I could remember.

I can still picture that drainage ditch. I remember putting a shovel to the clay and thinking “Holy hell I can't believe this was hand-dug by two people. Jesus.”

I never went back to work with Nick and Nirmegh after that day. I got paid cash, probably more than I made at the restaurant, but I never did it again. I'm not sure how long they worked on that house, or even what other work they did that summer, but if the rest of it was anything like that day, wow. Somehow Nick would find, this almost makes me laugh, the energy to run when he wasn't working. Maybe he only ran on days off. I can't imagine coming home from a day like that and going for a run. I can picture him crashing on the couch, with or without the TV on.

Things I Don't Get

Isn't there supposed to be a separation of church and state? What happened to that?

That anyone ever bought trickle-down economics.

How are the advertisements at the end of Car Talk still being read by Click and Clack? Are they old recordings? Did Lumber Liquidators sign up for an eternity of advertising?

How is it that in 2016 only 23 states require sexual education? How’s that denial working out for ya?

How the hell, in a democracy, does Citizens United exist?

If Tom Brady and LeBron James need union support, who doesn't? How is it that I don't know whether LeBron spells his name with a capital B? He does. And why is LeBron playing the violin the first picture that shows on Google images?

Why is showing emotion seen as weakness and bottling them up seen as strength? Why do we admire stoicism in the face of tragedy? Shouldn’t we embrace honest feelings?

How is it that the Major League Baseball All-Star Game still determines home-field advantage in the World Series? Ridiculous.

Why do you care what language someone else speaks?

I wrote this a few years ago; back when I could still type, with all of my fingers

How many times have you heard the phrase, “At Least You Have Your Health”? Have you ever thought anything of it? Chances are that unless you or a loved one has had a serious health issue, you’ve never given the idea much thought. But inevitably as you’ve gotten older, and more experienced with the fragility of human life, you’ve thought about your health more and more. Good health is one of those areas in life that is often taken for granted.

You may be thinking to yourself as you read this, “I don’t take it for granted. I work hard at it. I have a healthy diet, and I stay in shape.” Not to oversimplify, but you may think that if you take care of yourself, you will continue to be as healthy today as you were yesterday. And if something gets in the way, you’ll work through it; surely enough hard work can beat whatever life may throw at you.

We’re always seeing stories of hope, stories of revival. Time and again we see people fight through the worst and return to full health, reinforcing the dream that with enough determination, we can get through anything.

But of course life isn’t fair. Bad things happen to good people. And all we can do is try our best to deal with it.

Any time there’s something you don’t want to do, stop and try to appreciate the fact that you can do it. That is, you are able to do it. Next time you shovel the driveway and you have that tired, satisfied feeling when you’ve finished, well, just try to enjoy that feeling.

This may seem hard to believe, but it's absolutely true

Sometimes I think that someway, somehow, someday I could get better. I try to imagine what that would be like. I can't begin to imagine what it's like to run, or to ride a bike, or to approach a set of stairs without feelings of fear and anxiety. I have a tough time remembering what it was like to put on a shirt with ease. It's hard for me to believe that I could once do all of these things. The idea that I could jump out of bed, throw on my shirt and pants, and run out the door with a freshly tied pair of sneakers is so foreign to me that if it were to happen the shock might just kill me.

Dear People on the Phone

I'm sorry that I'm always on speaker phone. I'm sorry that I can't enunciate for shit. We can't all be as fucking perfect as you are. If my talk-to-text can understand me, then you should be able to as well. Please don't treat me like I'm stupid. Have some goddamn patience. That is all.