“Who needs hair, hair is dumb.” —Socrates, probably.
I found myself thinking about this guy today. Fatherhood can mean so many different things, and there isn’t just one kind. Today, some people are celebrating their biological dads; others, their stepdads, surrogate dads, adoptive dads, godfathers, mentors, religious figures, and so on. But I think it’s rare to have someone come into your life, long after you’ve reached adulthood, and become a father-figure instantly. Don is my friend, colleague, confidant—but he’s also my dad, even when the cameras stop rolling. He’s advised me, protected me, scolded me, and cheered me on. If I have a health problem, he won’t leave me alone until I see a doctor about it; if I fail to act with integrity, he admonishes me to make it right; if I bullshit him, he knows it. He’s my dad. And it’s not because I’m special; it’s because he is. I had a wonderful father growing up. Ronald Scott Snyder is who I always wanted to be as a child, and who I’ve slowly become as a man. But most people don’t have just one father, and I hope that you, whoever you are, take today to reflect on all your dads—all the men in your life who made you who you are, or have kept you who you want to be. It may not always take a village, but sometimes we’re lucky enough to get one. Happy Fathers Day to you and yours.
My son is five years old. It’s a sentence I half-expected would come prancing out of my mouth like a Broadway diva waiting far too long in the wings, but opening night always felt so far away. He’s no longer a baby, or even a toddler. Today, as I see him at least, Ford makes his debut as a boy. I have memories of myself earlier than five, of course, but this was the age I truly began to form complete, enduring, robust memories of my own. And I can’t help but parent by way of analogy: the sense I have of what it’s like to be Ford at any given age is inextricably tied to my own memories of that same time. I remember being five in a way I don’t quite remember being four, or three—I remember the person I was, the wishes I had for the future, the sense of being an autonomous person in the world. And so too, I imagine, will a 36-year-old Ford. This is it, kid. You’re on record, now. Your life, your history, is no longer anyone else’s to narrate for you—it’s your story to tell, and remember. May you be a protagonist we, and you, can root for; may your scars be few and your regrets useful; may you be kind to the people you will become and compassionate toward the people you once were; may you love, and accept love, freely; may you strive to be the best at something you cherish; may you always be good to children and animals; may you never stop tinkering with your philosophy like a careful watchmaker; and may you find happiness—real happiness—in all its exquisite incarnations. I love you, my sweet son. The stage is yours. Now break a leg. 📸: @nikkishoots #5yearsold
My son is five years old. It’s a sentence I half-expected would come prancing out of my mouth like a Broadway diva waiting far too long in the wings, but opening night always felt so far away. He’s no longer a baby, or even a toddler. Today, as I see him at least, Ford makes his debut as a boy. I have memories of myself earlier than five, of course, but this was the age I truly began to form complete, enduring, robust memories of my own. And I can’t help but parent by way of analogy: the sense I have of what it’s like to be Ford at any given age is inextricably tied to my own memories of that same time. I remember being five in a way I don’t quite remember being four, or three—I remember the person I was, the wishes I had for the future, the sense of being an autonomous person in the world. And so too, I imagine, will a 36-year-old Ford. This is it, kid. You’re on record, now. Your life, your history, is no longer anyone else’s to narrate for you—it’s your story to tell, and remember. May you be a protagonist we, and you, can root for; may your scars be few and your regrets useful; may you be kind to the people you will become and compassionate toward the people you once were; may you love, and accept love, freely; may you strive to be the best at something you cherish; may you always be good to children and animals; may you never stop tinkering with your philosophy like a careful watchmaker; and may you find happiness—real happiness—in all its exquisite incarnations. I love you, my sweet son. The stage is yours. Now break a leg. 📸: @nikkishoots #5yearsold
My son is five years old. It’s a sentence I half-expected would come prancing out of my mouth like a Broadway diva waiting far too long in the wings, but opening night always felt so far away. He’s no longer a baby, or even a toddler. Today, as I see him at least, Ford makes his debut as a boy. I have memories of myself earlier than five, of course, but this was the age I truly began to form complete, enduring, robust memories of my own. And I can’t help but parent by way of analogy: the sense I have of what it’s like to be Ford at any given age is inextricably tied to my own memories of that same time. I remember being five in a way I don’t quite remember being four, or three—I remember the person I was, the wishes I had for the future, the sense of being an autonomous person in the world. And so too, I imagine, will a 36-year-old Ford. This is it, kid. You’re on record, now. Your life, your history, is no longer anyone else’s to narrate for you—it’s your story to tell, and remember. May you be a protagonist we, and you, can root for; may your scars be few and your regrets useful; may you be kind to the people you will become and compassionate toward the people you once were; may you love, and accept love, freely; may you strive to be the best at something you cherish; may you always be good to children and animals; may you never stop tinkering with your philosophy like a careful watchmaker; and may you find happiness—real happiness—in all its exquisite incarnations. I love you, my sweet son. The stage is yours. Now break a leg. 📸: @nikkishoots #5yearsold
“Too few stories are told about the importance of straight-guy-love,” a gay colleague once said to me in passing, and I never forgot it. Don’t be ashamed to tell your hetero pals you love them. …Speaking of which, @thomasjankas go get me another beer! (📸: the great @jfoutsy)
“Too few stories are told about the importance of straight-guy-love,” a gay colleague once said to me in passing, and I never forgot it. Don’t be ashamed to tell your hetero pals you love them. …Speaking of which, @thomasjankas go get me another beer! (📸: the great @jfoutsy)
“Too few stories are told about the importance of straight-guy-love,” a gay colleague once said to me in passing, and I never forgot it. Don’t be ashamed to tell your hetero pals you love them. …Speaking of which, @thomasjankas go get me another beer! (📸: the great @jfoutsy)
“Too few stories are told about the importance of straight-guy-love,” a gay colleague once said to me in passing, and I never forgot it. Don’t be ashamed to tell your hetero pals you love them. …Speaking of which, @thomasjankas go get me another beer! (📸: the great @jfoutsy)
“Too few stories are told about the importance of straight-guy-love,” a gay colleague once said to me in passing, and I never forgot it. Don’t be ashamed to tell your hetero pals you love them. …Speaking of which, @thomasjankas go get me another beer! (📸: the great @jfoutsy)
The Happiest Place on Earth is back, baby.
Much needed last-minute camping trip in Joshua Tree with my two hetero-lifemates @thomasjankas and @trenttrail. (We all got covid-tested beforehand and slept in separate tents, to be safe.) Tom brought his new fancy camera and became our resident photographer, leaving us with some of these gems. (He kept trying to give all the credit to the camera, but the man’s got a hidden talent.) Trent and I mostly drank beer, reminisced about the good old days in acting class, and playfully argued over whether the sunset proved God’s existence. It was a good reminder that whatever else happens to be consuming us—politically, economically, socially—nature and all its quiescent beauty will always be there, waiting to be rediscovered.
Much needed last-minute camping trip in Joshua Tree with my two hetero-lifemates @thomasjankas and @trenttrail. (We all got covid-tested beforehand and slept in separate tents, to be safe.) Tom brought his new fancy camera and became our resident photographer, leaving us with some of these gems. (He kept trying to give all the credit to the camera, but the man’s got a hidden talent.) Trent and I mostly drank beer, reminisced about the good old days in acting class, and playfully argued over whether the sunset proved God’s existence. It was a good reminder that whatever else happens to be consuming us—politically, economically, socially—nature and all its quiescent beauty will always be there, waiting to be rediscovered.
Much needed last-minute camping trip in Joshua Tree with my two hetero-lifemates @thomasjankas and @trenttrail. (We all got covid-tested beforehand and slept in separate tents, to be safe.) Tom brought his new fancy camera and became our resident photographer, leaving us with some of these gems. (He kept trying to give all the credit to the camera, but the man’s got a hidden talent.) Trent and I mostly drank beer, reminisced about the good old days in acting class, and playfully argued over whether the sunset proved God’s existence. It was a good reminder that whatever else happens to be consuming us—politically, economically, socially—nature and all its quiescent beauty will always be there, waiting to be rediscovered.
Much needed last-minute camping trip in Joshua Tree with my two hetero-lifemates @thomasjankas and @trenttrail. (We all got covid-tested beforehand and slept in separate tents, to be safe.) Tom brought his new fancy camera and became our resident photographer, leaving us with some of these gems. (He kept trying to give all the credit to the camera, but the man’s got a hidden talent.) Trent and I mostly drank beer, reminisced about the good old days in acting class, and playfully argued over whether the sunset proved God’s existence. It was a good reminder that whatever else happens to be consuming us—politically, economically, socially—nature and all its quiescent beauty will always be there, waiting to be rediscovered.
Much needed last-minute camping trip in Joshua Tree with my two hetero-lifemates @thomasjankas and @trenttrail. (We all got covid-tested beforehand and slept in separate tents, to be safe.) Tom brought his new fancy camera and became our resident photographer, leaving us with some of these gems. (He kept trying to give all the credit to the camera, but the man’s got a hidden talent.) Trent and I mostly drank beer, reminisced about the good old days in acting class, and playfully argued over whether the sunset proved God’s existence. It was a good reminder that whatever else happens to be consuming us—politically, economically, socially—nature and all its quiescent beauty will always be there, waiting to be rediscovered.
Much needed last-minute camping trip in Joshua Tree with my two hetero-lifemates @thomasjankas and @trenttrail. (We all got covid-tested beforehand and slept in separate tents, to be safe.) Tom brought his new fancy camera and became our resident photographer, leaving us with some of these gems. (He kept trying to give all the credit to the camera, but the man’s got a hidden talent.) Trent and I mostly drank beer, reminisced about the good old days in acting class, and playfully argued over whether the sunset proved God’s existence. It was a good reminder that whatever else happens to be consuming us—politically, economically, socially—nature and all its quiescent beauty will always be there, waiting to be rediscovered.
Much needed last-minute camping trip in Joshua Tree with my two hetero-lifemates @thomasjankas and @trenttrail. (We all got covid-tested beforehand and slept in separate tents, to be safe.) Tom brought his new fancy camera and became our resident photographer, leaving us with some of these gems. (He kept trying to give all the credit to the camera, but the man’s got a hidden talent.) Trent and I mostly drank beer, reminisced about the good old days in acting class, and playfully argued over whether the sunset proved God’s existence. It was a good reminder that whatever else happens to be consuming us—politically, economically, socially—nature and all its quiescent beauty will always be there, waiting to be rediscovered.
Much needed last-minute camping trip in Joshua Tree with my two hetero-lifemates @thomasjankas and @trenttrail. (We all got covid-tested beforehand and slept in separate tents, to be safe.) Tom brought his new fancy camera and became our resident photographer, leaving us with some of these gems. (He kept trying to give all the credit to the camera, but the man’s got a hidden talent.) Trent and I mostly drank beer, reminisced about the good old days in acting class, and playfully argued over whether the sunset proved God’s existence. It was a good reminder that whatever else happens to be consuming us—politically, economically, socially—nature and all its quiescent beauty will always be there, waiting to be rediscovered.
Much needed last-minute camping trip in Joshua Tree with my two hetero-lifemates @thomasjankas and @trenttrail. (We all got covid-tested beforehand and slept in separate tents, to be safe.) Tom brought his new fancy camera and became our resident photographer, leaving us with some of these gems. (He kept trying to give all the credit to the camera, but the man’s got a hidden talent.) Trent and I mostly drank beer, reminisced about the good old days in acting class, and playfully argued over whether the sunset proved God’s existence. It was a good reminder that whatever else happens to be consuming us—politically, economically, socially—nature and all its quiescent beauty will always be there, waiting to be rediscovered.
My Map and my Compass. #valentines
I pass these guys on my drive to work all the time. I suppose we both have to get up early so we can feed our families.
The grown-up table. #walterwhite
My BFF @thomasjankas has been whipping my ass into shape since early last year (Covid makes everything harder, but we stay safe), and I feel better and stronger than I ever have. He used me for a short promo video and I thought I’d share—because I look cool in it, obviously. Do me a favor and give him a follow. Tom has so much wisdom to offer when it comes to fitness and general well-being, and the dude just gives it away for free on his IG, including fully planned out home workouts. Also, he’s super ripped and happy to be objectified, so there’s that. Tell him I sent you. #mytalentiswork
