Why I Don’t Tour (Very Much)

Imagine you wanted to be a pilot. The idea of flying, seeing the world like a bird — you couldn’t get it out of your mind. 

So you went to college, you studied flying, you learned everything. Got your million hours or whatever. People knew you as a pilot. They’d look at you with those pilot-loving eyes. But for some reason, it just didn’t seem quite right. You weren’t happy. 

An Open Letter to Mitch Garver of the Minnesota Twins

Dear Mr. Garver,

My 7-year-old son Silas gets a penny per weed he picks in his mom’s garden. 

One morning last week, before the fog had even lifted, I saw him from our kitchen window on his hands and knees, working with the focus of a labrador digging up a bone. What could possibly be motivating him? What inspired the swift pulling of exactly 400 weeds, I’d come to learn, on an early Wednesday morning? 

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