The Curmudgeon's Quests, by Allan Wooley​

When I found out Mr. Parris died, I sat on my porch and wept — the mailman didn't know what to do when he saw me there, blocking the mailbox. 

What a heartbreaking loss for the whole world. 

Last week, I found out that yet another teacher who shaped my high school experience had died. Though sad, I took comfort in learning that he'd published three books in his retirement. 

I'm only on page 20 of Crumbs Cast Upon the Current: Some Stories, Poems, and Essays... but I already wish that all of my teachers would write a memoir before it's too late. 

Image: @TheHappyTalent on Instagram

Last night, like every night before it these last few weeks, was one of the most glorious of my life. It was midnight, and I was walking through the woods, alone. The trees blocked most of the moonlight and starlight, but above and below and all around me, I was surrounded by fireflies. 

All at once, I felt secluded in nature, and like I was scuba diving, and like I was riding Space Mountain, and like I was on some kind of drug that just makes you love everything around more than you thought possible. 

I was a Game of Thrones hipster. I almost certainly read the books before you did, because I read them in 2003. You read them in June 2011. 

The same is not true for me and Harry Potter. I didn't start reading them until 2004, so I only had to wait for two of the books to come out.

Image: @TheHappyTalent on Instagram

Last night, I debuted my first-ever original Christmas song -- and, a few mistakes notwithstanding, it went pretty well! 

Which is funny, because when I decided to write a Christmas song, I thought there was about a 1% chance I'd create something that wasn't embarrassingly awful and cheesy. 

​So how did I do it?

Simple. 

​I tied a hand behind my back.

Image: @TheHappyTalent on Instagram

Last Wednesday, I was at the rock wall, waiting for my climbing partner, who was running late. Mindlessly, I started scrolling through my newsfeed... when I saw an ad for a Fleetwood Mac concert! 

I clicked the link, even though I was pretty sure I wouldn't actually go, since I'm bad at planning things in advance. But it turns out the concert was that night! In the moments before my climbing buddy arrived, I texted a friend to see if he was game, and booked our tickets. I had time for about 45 minutes of climbing before the show! 

Next thing I knew, I was in the 5th row at Fleetwood Mac, about to take a selfie during the chorus of Landslide, one of the most legendary songs of all time... when Stevie Nicks suddenly stopped singing and said, "What's happening? What happened? I lost the key!"
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Victoria's Secret's CEO, Jan Singer, is stepping down -- and Forbes speculates it may be connected to rival brand ThirdLove's open letter in the New York Times about inclusion.

Singer, a female CEO, will be replaced John Mehas. (I don't mean to "assume his gender," but I'm pretty sure he's a dude -- I thought it was cool when a lingerie company had a woman at the helm.)

I'm not sure what this means for the future of VS... but part of me is worried about the future of the Victoria's Secret and its fashion show.

So my buddy Nick and I have been talking about playing at an open mic... and we thought it would be fun to do a set of songs that is all G-Em-C-D. Because what a versatile chord progression, right?

Naturally, Wagon Wheel came to mind... But then Nick brought it to my attention that, according to mean (and potentially racist) people on the internet, no one should cover Wagon Wheel, ever -- not even Darius Rucker.

But, guys. Darius Rucker's version is way better than Old Crow Medicine Show's. 

From: Candytopia on Facebook

A "critic" who writes for the New York Times was recently paid to attend several (five?) ​Instagramable  museums, factories and mansions. In her own words, "They nearly broke me."

And that made my heart break a little... for her.

Something major happens on the first day of October (and, sometimes, the first day of September) every year:

The menu at your favorite coffee shop changes. Just a little. But it is a very big deal.

"I'm not a tourist, I'm a traveler!" I've heard this countless times during my travels. If I'm being honest, I've probably said it myself at some point.

But with age comes wisdom. I've changed my tune. I am perfectly happy to be a shameless tourist.

​Here's why.