There are things I should have done and did not do, and there are things I did do, but should not have done. I've learned from both - and from falling in love with people who don't love back. From golf, from limerence, from family, from death, from marriage and divorce.
These thirty-one essays were written the way they sound: an hour at a time, on a porch, with a cigar and something on my mind. They are not instructions. I've spent a career teaching complicated things to busy people; this is the other book - the one about sharks and eagles, smashed cake and Amalfi lemons, the houses we build and the ones that take us back.
I wrote these for my friends, for my son, and for the woman I may never meet but hope to someday. It's honest recollection; I make no apologies.
A collection about love, loss, second chances, and a small French bulldog who appears on nearly every page - for anyone rebuilding a life in its second half.