Author Archives Taylor Berger

  •   Stop saying “attached please find.” This phrase has been rode hard and put up wet, so let it die a peaceful death on the pasture beside two spaces after a period. Be imaginatively simple (“I’ve attached a report detailing how obnoxious the use of passive voice can be in correspondence”). Use the handy hyperlink […]

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  •   They painted their vintage trailer with care. They even attached little wings on the back evoking Thor. They picked a spot, negotiated a deal with the landlord, printed their marketing material and plugged into electrical sockets to keep all those fabulously raw juices, smoothies and meals cold and ready for pick-up. What happened next […]

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  •   I was living in a trailer at a state park when an octogenarian recovering alcoholic named Keith showed me freedom. We’d sit on his porch after church on Sundays, eating whatever leftovers he’d cobbled together. The dressing for the wilted browned salad was always expired, “just getting ripe,” as he put it. He’d grown […]

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  •   Last night you slept outside in a hammock. I guessed you’d wake me sleeping inside the tent crying, but you didn’t. With the horses yesterday I thought you’d saddle up with me, but you wanted your own to ride. At the lake I couldn’t believe when you fell in love with jumping off a […]

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  •   Something’s happening at flex-industrial building on the northeast corner of Tillman Street and Broad Avenue, and it’s a lot more than the arcade bar Rec Room that opened there in April. The addition of a new 16,000 square foot fitness facility called The Box at 580 Tillman brings the total hybrid retail uses in […]

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  •   Marco Capote is the kind of friend you want around when the shit goes down. When he pulled up to meet us in Moab, driving a vintage Land Cruiser with a Great Dane and chihuahua poking their heads out the window, I knew this was going to be fun. Later I learned he’d replaced […]

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  •   Sometimes the best times happen in conditions less than ideal. Leaving out of Santa Fe we quickly lost all radio contact. That is, no podcast downloads for Daddy and no streaming Dora for Andrew. But the high desert scenery struck us, and the cows and horses were plentiful. We arrived at Mancos State Park near […]

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  •   There will be blood. Sweat. Tears. And spandex. This summer on Monday nights at Rec Room there will be a revival of sorts. Memphis wrasslin’ is coming back. It’s one of those projects that’s been simmering in the back of my mind for years. Probably since I left the wrestling mat at Christian Brothers […]

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  •   John Denver was wrong, at least about the sunshine. Since leaving Kansas the weather has been cold and rainy. So after 36 hours in Fort Collins with Grandpa Art, we’re headed south. Despite the weather it was good to be here. Resting up and hanging out. We saw Mad Max. We played Batman video games. […]

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  •   I’m watching the sun rise over our campsite overlooking “the clearest lake in Kansas,” at Wilson Lake State Park, where it’s a breezy 47 degrees. Thank God for portable French press and Coleman stoves. Andrew is still sleeping, worn out from nine hours on the road yesterday. Calvin is roaming, inspecting our neighbors’ RVs […]

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(I use my own pagination)s