They made me sign a waiver before the wings arrived. A paper. To eat. As though courage came with a release form. The cheerful waiter set the plate down like a man delivering a verdict. "These are the Infernos. Most people tap out. There's milk if you need it." I looked at the milk. The milk looked back. We understood each other. Neither of us would be needed tonight. "I will not be requiring the milk," I said. The first bite arrived like a small sunrise behind the eyes. (My tongue filed a formal complaint. My eyes opened a second one. I overruled them both.) A man does not ask the fire to be gentler. He only becomes harder to burn. I did not reach for water. I did not wave a hand before my mouth. I sat, straight-backed, and ate the Infernos one by one, the way a man receives ten thousand letters of bad news without changing his face. Beside me, a college boy attempting the same challenge was weeping openly into a napkin. So, between bites, I turned to him and said, calmly, that the fire is not the enemy — the wish for it to stop is the enemy. He stared. Then he picked up another wing. When the waiter returned, expecting wreckage, he found an empty plate and a samurai sitting in perfect, sweating peace. "...sir. You want the wall? You're on the wall now. People take a photo." I rose. I bowed to the plate. I bowed to the kitchen, where unseen hands had forged so worthy a trial. "Thank you for the fire," I told them. Then I turned to the room and said, with smoke still somewhere in my soul: "Comfort teaches a man nothing. Bless the meal that fights back." The college boy lifted his last wing like a torch. The cook came out to shake my hand. The whole table behind me began, softly, to applaud the strange calm man who had thanked them for the burning. I walked out into the cool evening, mouth aflame, heart entirely at peace. A small fire, faced well, is just another way to know you are alive.

My wife’s taste and whimsy remain undefeated. I asked if we could get one that says “Topless Dancers” when the kids move out. I didn’t hear a “No”. Love that woman. #Marriage #SoulMate

Moving and packing today. Kids found the dolly. #Parenting #HomemadeFun

Son grabs bacon cheeseburger. Immediately picks the bacon off and mucks it down. Wife: “What’s with you and bacon?” Me: “Hey, leave him alone. Bacon is wonderful. Beer, Bacon, and Hockey are proof that God is real and loves us.” Wife pees a little laughing.

Teaching my kids how to say “Sweet Dreams” in German. Next step, how to say, “Thank you!” Then we learn a song. #einkleinesBlumelein

Y’all watch @EbanieBridges to see her weigh-in wearing skimpy lingerie. I watch @EbanieBridges because she’s the most gutsy Australian fighter since Jeff Fenech. We are not the same. Go get ‘em, Bomber.

The guitar says it all. #LGRW

A routine conversation with my sister. I’d kill for her. Don’t ask me to be nice, though.

My wife’s biggest turn-on? What gets her motor revved up like a funny car at the line? I’m about to fall asleep. #NoComplaints

Moving again. Found this in the pile of boxes from the last move. This box was for cookware. My elan remains undefeated.

Just went down a @grok rabbit hole on polaritonic cavity QED physics. I have a toothache in my brain. #ForBetterMenThanMe

There’s a hockey/tiger mom I chat with occasionally at my daughter’s class. She’s nice enough; barely. Today, my beautiful wife had the morning free and went with us for the first time. Lady glared daggers at her. 🤷🏻‍♂️ #Marriage #HandsomeAsFuck

Edvinsson out here working like an Amish mule. #LGRW

The USA men’s gold is amazing, and no less amazing is the USA women’s team. Aerin Frankel allowed two goals. Two. I give credit to @thepwhlofficial for such high-level ice time. First PWHL game is Thursday. My daughter will be watching. Let’s go @PWHL_Minnesota!

I think we can all agree that this legendary USA Olympic hockey run for the men and women can be chalked up to exceptional goaltending. Frankel and Hellebuyck held the line. Forever grateful. 🇺🇸 #USAHockey

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Three broken teeth and one clutch fucking goal. Thank you, Jack Hughes! 🇺🇸 🇺🇸 🇺🇸 #USAHockey

Busy learning a grip of new songs to stay fresh on guitar. My wife has heard me play “Honey Pie” and “Glory of Love” about 10,000 times and she might stab me or, worse, break my guitar.

A tale of desperation told in a single image.

My phone keeps telling me to lower my volume. Listen here, Apple; I used to shoot guns without ear pro and play in a metal band at ear splitting volume. I can fall asleep with my head out the window of a car on the highway. Fuck off, let me go deaf. #tinnitus #canyourepeatthat