This section is where I’ll be sharing, you got it, memories. Wait, “Aren’t these just stories?,” you ask. Well, yes, as memories are relayed to the world outside of ourselves, they often take the shape of stories.

Being awakened by an incredibly loud fire alarm mere minutes after dozing off in a large Scottish hotel.
Being told by the ticket agent at O’Hare that my passport had expired mere days before the date on my ticket. 
Jack Johnson and his family on bicycles being some of the first people we see upon arriving in Honolulu for a solo show. 
Wondering why I can write with my shoes off now when I never could concentrate shoeless until just a few years ago. 
It taking a few seconds to register that the “plap plap plap plap” sound I was hearing as I lifted toddler Sammy into the top bunk was that of wooden c…
Feeling like a tiny slice of world history was revealed to me in a much more relatable and understandable way when a German promoter informed us it was…
What is a rememory? Thinking it was bad news, even in my early twenties, finding out that The Band’s manager owned a pharmacy. For years I thought that…
See all