Tag: bourbon
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On: Scotch Whisky and Head Colds
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I Will Send You A Postcard
It might be a vintage one I pick up at a garage sale. It might be one I draw or paint myself. Maybe it’s some photo artwork. Whatever it is, you probably haven’t gotten something like this in a while. Shoot me an email with your mailing address david at dtpennington dot com.
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Hiya, Tybee
It shocks me how docile, chill, and well-behaved a dog can be. We hadn’t planned on a pit-mix. We hardly planned on a dog this soon. After a week without a dog in the house for the first time in 16 years, the change was too harsh. Winter felt too cold. We met Tybee in…
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App Zero – Progress Update 12.2024
I mean, who doesn’t love a fancy new app? I mean, isn’t that what so much of the industry invests its resources to? Creating something that looks incredible and feels like it adds some kind of value too your life? So often, the value is a verified distraction. The value is in the mood boost…
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The Loss of the “Literary Man”
The headline is simple but does what it can to rattle the alarms: The Disappearance of Literary Men Should Worry Everyone. The author spends a lot of the essay pointing out how the numbers and proportions of male/female students, writers, readers, etc. have changed over the decades. Yes, duh. They’ve dropped across the board. Oh,…
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Why Kids Can’t Read
I have no patience for podcasts. I leave it to my wife to decide what gets listened to on long road trips (or, in the winter, when a 1,000 piece puzzle is littered all over the dining table). During our drive back from Savannah, where we spent the week of Thanksgiving and adopted our darling…
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Affiliate Arbitrage
Theory: search and referrals rarely deliver consumers results for the “best” product or service they are looking for. Just about every link on any “buyer’s guide” page goes through several hoops of affiliate reference codes. So you have to ask: is this product really the best? Or is the publisher getting the most incentive to…
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How To Grieve a Dog
When I was 10 or 11 I remember my father taking me with him to an animal hospital out in the sticks. The cat, Friday, was in the back seat in its travel trailer. I don’t remember much about the cat other than that we didn’t care for each other very much. It was effectively…
Yes, I wanted to go. I had the genetic right to see what this land was all about! I wanted my own pictures of copper stills and peat fields! I wanted to nurse my own hangovers and wash the taste of smoky, peated belches from my mouth with imported Italian espresso and a quick bite…
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