Though I’m always after my wife for saving too much stuff, in fact I have the same problem. One thing that’s been particularly hard for me to get rid of is my first good camera, a compact SLR called an Olympus OM-1. My attachment to the Olympus, a device which has long since outlived its usefulness, has to do not just with the many events it has helped me capture over the years, but to its own adventures while not under my control. read more

Has Garry Trudeau been reading The Routes of Man?

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Since its launch on February 9 (and even before then, in pre-publication media) my new book has been reviewed in print, on the radio and online. More reviews, I’m told, are on the way. But for now, here’s a roundup of some of the notables:
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One of my favorite photographs of a road is by Nicholas deVore III. Nicholas was one of those rare people of approximately my age or older who grew up in Aspen, Colorado, instead of immigrating there. That’s where I met him, when I was researching my book Whiteout. Nicholas was extraordinarily smart, creative, funny, libidinous, and alarming. President of his class at Aspen High, he spent many years as a photographer for National Geographic, Fortune, Life, and Geo. read more

The magazine The Week asked me for a list of my top six books about travel on roads. It’s in the current issue.

A reader on my Facebook page, on hearing of my new book, asked simply, “Where did you get the idea?” I thought about trying to answer, but the space for replying is pretty small. But I give it a stab in the intro to The Routes of Man. read more

A lot of us work to music. I used to play music to help get me get going, to start the flow — mostly music without words, and especially guitar or piano. Once I got involved in the writing, the music would fade from consciousness (but maybe stay in subconsciousness). I’d know it worked when I stop for a break and notice I’d gotten to the end of the cassette or CD or playlist. read more

The car was feeling sluggish as I drove my son to school last Monday morning. Slow to back out of the driveway, slow to accelerate. Of course it was cold outside, and I myself am slow to accelerate on Mondays, so for a minute or two I thought maybe it was just me. But finally I pulled over and put it in PARK: “Check the tires on your side, will you?” I asked my son.

Sure enough, we had a flat.

I don’t know about you, but having a flat tire makes me feel like a loser. There go all my neighbors, shooting to work in business attire, and here am I for all to see, working the jack and the tire iron in my sweatshirt and white socks and Crocs. A jogger was the only person to stop. “The week can only get better from here,” he assured me. I hear you, brother. read more