PicoBlog

Thanks for reading The Nonlinear Life, a newsletter about navigating life's ups and downs. Every week we explore family, health, work, and meaning, with the occasional dad joke and dose of inspiration. If you're new around here, read my introductory post, learn about me, or check out our archives. And if you enjoyed this article, please subscribe or share with a friend. --- As a fifth-generation Georgian, I can still rattle off all of the state symbols I learned as a child:

This essay is free to read. Consider becoming a paid subscriber to support the research, interviews and writing that goes into the creation of essays on essential topics like this.  I don't remember exactly when it happened for me, but the thought arose with surprising clarity: something is deeply wrong with the United States, and I don't want to live here anymore.  When I tell people this, they nod knowingly and say something about the 2016 election.

I could not be more excited to introduce you to The Weekday Vegetarians, which is officially out in the world. Can you believe how happy and gorgeous she is? Before I started writing this book, it’s not an exaggeration to say that a piece of animal protein anchored our dinner plates at least five out of seven nights a week. Back then, when I was trying to decide what to make for dinner, I’d think to myself, We have chicken, lets make some breaded cutlets or We have ground turkey, let’s make turkey chili.

If you didn’t catch it last weekend, we rolled out a new dimension to The Portmanteau. Meet The Weekender, a weekend digest that highlights just three reads from the week and why they’re worth your time. Wednesday afternoon I sat outside. It was a little after 5pm, my workday had ended, the trees shone golden and green and vermillion in the Fall rays of the setting sun, and the crisp Denver night air began rolling in from the mountains.

So what are you guys up to today… driving from Pittsburgh to Philly? You would not believe how many people say that… Good reviews? Yea, that’s me…I roast my own coffee…you found a GEM as they say…Oh... I’m fine, just drinking champagne all day… no, I’m kidding that was just a question to find out what kind of people you are…well some people are like, shocked,…and some people are like, sweet can I join you?

Each week, I'll be diving into a variety of topics that I'm passionate about, including business, economics, education, and the military to civilian transition. I also send out job postings and military transition networking opportunities. By Sitreps2Steercos Substack · Over 2,000 subscribersNo thanksncG1vNJzZmirmam%2FprzSa6qtnZWnsLC%2Fjaysm6uklrCsesKopGg%3D

Hello angels … lol … for one last time I’ll do an Idol chat in the Substack app.The Idol is a fantastic show about Da'Vine Joy Randolph trying to get a bunch of people who self-describe as “creatives” to turn anything in on time. It is an utterly mediocre show about nearly everything else: Hollywood, avarice, mansions that look decorated by W Hotels, cults of personality, pop music, ambition, loneliness, and rage.

As motivational speeches go, Tripper’s big rally cry to the decidedly average Camp North Star campers as they face off against the rich kids across the lake, the pivotal moment of Ivan Reitman’s 1979 comedy Meatballs, is not exactly Harry’s St. Crispin’s Day speech. But I have come to understand it as the one that speaks most directly to my heart. A bit of obligatory throat-clearing first: If you are new to me or my writing, you should know there is much about Meatballs I don’t celebrate, like the clumsy nerd referred to by everyone by his nickname, an ableist slur.

Tonally, "The Westerner" is one of the weirdest films I've ever encountered. Ostensibly it's about Judge Roy Bean, the famous/infamous Texas Justice of the Peace who essentially operated a combination saloon/courtroom as his own personal fiefdom. He generally dispensed the same punishment to every offender: hanging, and a fine that always equaled whatever currency the man had in his pockets at the time. Bean kept the money for himself as court fees, with enough parceled out to the silent undertaker character who seems to populate every Western.