These pretzels are making me thirsty

Welcome to my weird little world. I don’t like talking about myself. Unless I’m crafting a detailed, vulnerable creative nonfiction story from my life, where I’ll pour out my soul to you. Then it’s okay.

My name really is Christopher Robin. My mother tells me I was named after two uncles — Chris and Robin. But I was born in the late 70s, so who’s bullshitting who, Mom?

Most of my work has a soundtrack. There’s one in my brain all the time anyway, so I feel like sharing it. There’s a lyrical or…

A journal entry

As we all know, 2020 was a shitshow. But not all that happened was bad.

In amongst the chaos, some good things happened. My kids were small enough that we were able to spend some quality time with them, and they were able to drive us bananas all at the same time.

Spring 2020 was terrible, but memorable nonetheless. With nowhere to go, people started hoarding outdoor supplies for the summer. Pools, bikes, toys, etc. In early April we saw the proverbial writing on the wall that summer was going to be weird. …

An Ornithological Story

I saw this guy from my living room window sitting behind the car in the driveway. I thought maybe he had fallen asleep. (Or she. I’m no ornithologist.)

I didn’t want to run him over, so I went out to shoo him away. Then as I drew closer, I realized he wasn’t moving. Had he had a stroke? Can that happen to birds? Jesus, maybe he’s died standing up. Maybe he’s got some kind of bird flu, and the next pandemic is nigh!

Maybe he’s got a fungus in his brain preparing to take control. He’s a zombie bird! He’s…

If I need to rearrange them…

Sleeping pills. Maybe someone slipped me some. Maybe I need some.

I haven’t written much in a couple weeks. I haven’t missed it. Mental health breaks from everything are good, eh?

Distractions abound.

However, this song lit my fuse today on a long drive to work. It made all else fade into the underneath.

I’m a big fan of those brits and their brand of rock. Nothing But Thieves has been doing it since 2012. Before that, Muse was my British rock muse. Conor Mason brings the feels with his brand of lilting…

Pictures of an oasis

Spring and fall have an added layer of complexity to them when you have a pool. It’s a more acute sense of time, either brought on by maturity or years of life. When you have little ones, time moves at a seemingly increased and frantic pace because they grow so fast. Oh, and the chaos helps accelerate time, as well.

Spring is upon us. Trees are budding, the muddy ground warming and softening from the harsh winter cold. The sun bakes the top layer of leaves, but the underneath is cold and wet. …

Sad music hurts so good

Like raindrops on a window and the barren limbs of an old oak tree, sadness is all around us. Frankly, it’s underrated. It played a major role and saved the day for Joy in Pixar’s movie Inside Out.

While driving to work a few weeks ago, I realized how much sad, slow, somber music I listen to. I wondered if I’m depressed, but nah, that can’t be the case because I’m generally happy. What is it about this music that I like so much?

There’s so much pressure on us to seem happy. I say screw that. Why should I…

Chris Stapleton/The Steeldrivers

All I need from a song these days is for it to light my fuse, send me to the outer cosmos of emotion through transcendent chorded harmonies, and bring me back into another realm where nothing will ever be the same again.

Is that too much to ask of a four-minute song? Maybe.

If your song doesn’t have heart, I’m out. My journey through life and music, both one and the same, is one that involves pure heart and soul. …

When love beats discipline. A photo story.

And you’re so much like me…I’m sorry.

Her cheeks blotchy and eyes swollen, she looks up at me and I shatter. My little girl looks to me for help but pushes me away. She runs after me, nipping at my heels, but shies away when I turn to comfort her. Her head is a mess, and she feels all emotions at once. She is angry and scared, sad and anxious.

On a journey together

I went to bed last night reading an fantastic book for which I’m writing a piece— perhaps for Age of Empathy — since this book is nearly 500 pages of stunning creative nonfiction at heart.

After I closed the book, I accidentally slipped into mentally listing the things I wanted to accomplish the next day. Not exactly the recipe for a good night’s sleep, but what can you do? …

Christopher Robin

Yes, that's my real name. Yes, I’m in therapy. No, that's not why. Father, husband, writer. Finding beauty in the mundane.

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