Category: Yo Ivanhoe

–J.A. Whipple, early daguerreotype of the moon. February 26, 1852. From the Harvard Daguerreotype Collection. People who frequent low drinking resorts eight nights a week are liable to get –vulgarity says it best– they get fucked up. They are assaulted by too much truth and, at the same time, too many lies; they lose their…

As I was driving around town today I was writing this country song in my head. I had the whole damn thing worked out –verses, chorus, tune, the whole shebang– and it was shaping up to be a real humdinger of drunken regret, a first-class jukebox classic, and something of a comeback record for me.…

From the pages of Matthew LeCroy’s 1993 Belton-Honea Path, South Carolina high school yearbook: Damn, Dave Gassner was a lot of fun to watch today. He sure looked like one of those cool, crafty lefthanders who could have a nice, long career. Whenever the build-up on a guy places so much emphasis on the fact…

—illustration: James Dankert All day I was looking forward to hustling home from my job as a lobby gnome at an office building downtown so I could settle into the couch to watch the Twins and Indians. Friday nights –like most other nights– are usually a clear, blank radar screen at Jumbo’s posh hovel, but…

I figured out pretty quick that I didn’t have the goods to be any kind of a proper accountant, despite pissing away God knows how much money on what some fools would call an education. Maybe, actually, I should have said ‘real accountant.’ I lacked the discipline and the attention (and, frankly, the interest) to…

I’m not quite sure how to say this. I realize this is an awkward moment, and I apologize in advance if what I’m about to say hurts your feelings. I certainly value our friendship too much to jeopardize it over something which I fear might sound terribly petty. I can assure you I’ve gone back…