PinnedLost in the Restaurant of the UniverseWhere now contains every moment, and nothing ever arrives in the right order. One in a series of essays inspired by the intersection of family photographs and memory. This stream-of-consciousness piece — which may or may not be any good — was inspired by the writing of the late Brian…Family10 min readFamily10 min read
PinnedThe Uninvited SweaterToward the end of his life, my father owned many pieces of clothing. This was definitely not one of them. — First published in my Substack newsletter, Unsorted but Significant, August 2023. It WASN’T AN UGLY SWEATER. Not really. I mean, it wasn’t attractive, and it was pretty generic. But I wouldn’t call it ugly. One day it just showed up. I’d gone over to my parents’ assisted-living facility north of…Parents8 min readParents8 min read
PinnedClose, But No Cigar BandThe curious, tobacco-inflected correspondence between my adolescent grandfather and Mark Twain. First published in my Substack newsletter, Unsorted but Significant, March 2023. I never knew my paternal grandfather and namesake, Edward Mason Anthony Sr., who died a decade and a half before I was born. I can’t remember my grandmother…Mark Twain10 min readMark Twain10 min read
Published inHuman Parts·PinnedI Want To Be Someone Who BelievesA 20-year detour is long enough. — PITTSBURGH, Pa., 9/11/21 It is 3:30 p.m. on Sept. 11, 2021, a sunny Saturday afternoon. I am driving my 18-year-old son down from our home in the northern suburbs to the University of Pittsburgh campus, to a dorm not far from the elementary school that we both attended. …Memoir14 min readMemoir14 min read
PinnedMember-onlyWe Did Not, In Fact, Build This City on Rock and RollAging, death and the lies of 1980s bubblegum music. — “Welcome to your life. There’s no turning back.” — Tears for Fears, 1985 For Chris Wenzler (1967–2020). ALLISON PARK, Pa. Me, right now: standing in the front bathroom of the split-level house passed to me by my parents a decade ago. I glance in the mirror where, each weekday morning between 1982 and…Music13 min readMusic13 min read
Nov 21Final EditionAfter 58 years, the era of the newspaper ends at our house. — First published in my Substack newsletter, Unsorted but Significant, November 2023. YESTERDAY MORNING, I padded out to the edge of our driveway in suburban Pittsburgh on a crisp, sunny fall Sunday to retrieve a thin blue plastic bag and scurry back inside in my socks. …Newspapers7 min readNewspapers7 min read
Oct 30Card StockThe tiny things we choose to remember can echo forward for decades. — First published in my Substack newsletter, Unsorted but Significant, earlier this month. MY PARENTS WERE both committed users of index cards — or just “3x5 cards,” as they called them. My father carried tiny reams of them around in his shirt pocket, blank and bound with rubberbands, and occasionally even…Family3 min readFamily3 min read
Oct 4Love, Sugar Beets and a StudebakerHow teaching English to farm workers in rural Michigan brought my parents together. — The latest in a series of essays inspired by the intersection of family photographs and memory. First published in my Substack newsletter, Unsorted but Significant, August 2023. This is the story, as my parents always told it: They were graduate students in linguistics at the University of Michigan. As part…Parents5 min readParents5 min read
Aug 26Saturday Baseball Time MachineA 19th century-style ballgame and an iPhone app combine for a weekend trip back to the Civil War era. — First published in my Substack newsletter, Unsorted but Significant, August 2023. AVELLA, Pa. The scratchy old pictures of 19th-century baseball have always felt like time portals to me — smudgy windows into the early childhood of a game I love, almost but not quite real. They are at once familiar and utterly…Baseball4 min readBaseball4 min read
Aug 25Lookin’ Out My Back DoorFrom the train window, other angles on life slip into focus. — First published in my Substack newsletter, Unsorted but Significant, August 2023. ABOARD THE AMTRAK PENNSYLVANIAN EAST OF PITTSBURGH The day is just beginning, and on this sunny Sunday morning all is still. Our train slices through the landscape in near silence, its rattling barely perceptible even to the sleepy travelers within its metal confines.Travel9 min readTravel9 min read