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On the Fly-Taking Flight

In this special 500th episode,  On the Fly  is moving to a new home. Here’s why—and what’s staying the same. For a very long time (since April 2012),  On the Fly  has lived on  Blogger . Blogger has been a reliable host—dependable, quiet, and never complaining when I arrived late with another half-baked idea, a guitar riff, or a story that needed a little air. It faithfully archived my thoughts, my music, and more than a decade of curiosity. But the internet has changed. It’s louder now. Flashier. More insistent. Every thought is nudged to perform. Every sentence wants to be optimized, monetized, or interrupted by something that really wants your attention right this second. I’ve been craving the opposite. So today, On the Fly is moving to Substack . If you’ve been with me for a while, you know my quiet obsession: the A rt of Seeing . I’m interested in the moments we rush past—the Aversion Trap, the discipline hidden inside a guitarist’s daily practice, t...
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The Language of Home: Building a Sanctuary

This episode is  for anyone trying to find their footing in a new place—whether it’s a new city, a new job, or a new country. The light in Florence, Italy, has a way of making everything feel like a Renaissance painting—the golden hue on the stone, the steady rhythm of the Arno River, and the feeling that you are walking through a history much larger than yourself. I was there to give a presentation to a class of Gemology students. I was prepared to discuss color grading and refractive indices, but not to be outed as a language tutor . Feeling very much like a guest in a storied land, a hand shot up enthusiastically. "You’re the guy on the podcasts," the young woman said, her eyes bright with recognition. "You’re the one teaching us English." I laughed nervously. If you know my flat Midwestern accent, you know the irony here. I am hardly an Oxford professor. But later, as I wandered the cobblestone streets beneath the shadow of the Duomo, the humor faded into a powe...

Some Things Just Need an Oven

In this episode, A simple lesson about patience, modern life, and why slowing down still matters. We live in a world that loves to go fast. We want packages delivered today, homework finished instantly, and dinner ready in three minutes or less. Speed has become a feature, a selling point, almost a moral virtue. Last night at Nick’s on State in Carlsbad, a baked potato reminded me that speed isn’t always the point. Nick’s was lively—the good kind of lively. Grandpas telling long stories. Kids doodling on napkins. Conversations overlap in that comfortable way that says no one is in a rush to be anywhere else. Instead of the tall stools at the bar, we were led to a cozy table right in the middle of it all. The menu had plenty of tempting options: shiny fish, towering sandwiches, dishes clearly designed to impress. I ordered a baked potato. When the waitress asked what I wanted on top, I said, “Everything.” There’s something deeply satisfying about taking a humble vegetable that grew in t...

Chasing 70

In this episode,  Chasing 70: A Respectful Negotiation with Gravity They say golf is a game of misses. If that’s true, my first round of the year at Rancho Carlsbad was a masterclass in missing efficiently . After a four-month hiatus—during which my golf clubs quietly evolved into a self-sustaining garage ecosystem—Lori and I returned to our local par-three proving ground. Rancho Carlsbad is a par-54, just 1,983 yards long. That sounds forgiving until it exposes every weakness you’ve been politely ignoring during the off-season. I finished with a 78. In most contexts, 78 is respectable. On a par-54, it means I spent a fair amount of time “getting my steps in.” But here’s the real motivation: I turn 70 this August. As a core principle of my Great Un-Working Lifestyle, I’m putting it in writing: I want to shoot my age by my birthday. The Bald-Headed Man Course Around here, we have a nickname for Rancho Carlsbad. We call it the Bald-Headed Man Course. First, because there are no woods...

Life OS: Version 2026

In this episode: Why Your Mind Feels Like It Has 47 Tabs Open. Back in 2017, I wrote about how your mind was a blank slate at birth. A Tabula Rasa . Clean. Empty. Ready for some elegant code. Bless my 2017 heart. But in 2026, that “blank slate” looks more like a cluttered desktop. Forty-seven open tabs. A “Storage Full” warning. A cooling fan that’s screaming for mercy. If our minds are computers—and I’m convinced they are—most of us are running cutting-edge, high-demand software on hardware that’s still trying to process a resentment from 2004. So . . . let’s update the experiment. This isn’t about reinventing your life. It’s about fine-tuning your firmware—without crashing the system. The Legacy Code  (Or: Why You’re Still Like This) We all run on firmware: low-level code installed early and rarely questioned. The Good Stuff: Breathing? Big fan. The Buggy Stuff: Ancient survival logic from ancestors who assumed every unfamiliar sound meant “ Run or Die. ” That same code now trea...

When Fear Becomes the Default

In this special episode, When Fear Becomes the Default. Early Sunday morning, I was cycling past a small veterans’ pocket park in San Marcos. The air was still, the streets nearly empty. On one corner stood a young woman, alone, holding a hand-painted sign that read: “Be ANGRY. ICE agents are murdering people.” I pedaled past, but the words stayed with me. I knew the context—the footage and headlines from Minneapolis the day before, already ricocheting through the country and hardening opinions. Even in the quiet of the ride, the noise followed. Two miles later, I stopped at a red light. A black car with dark windows pulled up inches from my bike. My heart jumped. My first instinct wasn’t neighbor —it was threat . I found myself bracing, scanning, and wondering if the person inside was angry, armed, or looking for trouble. Then the door opened. A well-dressed young woman stepped out, walked to the trunk, and pulled out a sign that read “Open House.” She turned, smiled brightly, and sa...