Peter’s Newsletter
Sportswriter/author who recently got an MA in Teaching and thinks his thoughts are more important than they are.
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 6
- Latest publication
- Sep 29, 2026
- Audience
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- Earliest in this view
- Jul 7, 2026
Latest issues
When The Old Becomes Distant And Meaningless, The New Grows On You (opens the original)
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In 2021, The Oak Spring Garden Foundation, in a story about the American Persimmon — Diospyros Virginiana — called it “A Divine Fruit” (while noting that diospyros “roughly translates to `food of the gods,’” which isn’t remotely accurate. The OSGF is a big deal and you’d think they’d have a fact-checker.)But when this weird, otherwordly leafy hexaploid stolenoferous arrives in your definitely un-divine front yard, then what grows is finding out that what matters in the end is seeing new things g
My Inheritances (opens the original)
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The conscious being you’ve assembled and constructed through a lifetime of experiences — you — vanishes into irrelevance, into piles of distant dust and rusted trophies stacked into a dark corner somewhere, when your kid dies. From then on, anything about yourself in your new life, even if it’s an achievement, is growing out of a soil of sad. Things can blossom, but they come from sorrow. But not coincidentally, at the same time, joyously, lots of him moves in to the place that just emptied in y
Jill's Fled East, Over To The Other Side Of Hartford (opens the original)
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One night a fairly long time ago, Bill Murray and I were drinking a lot of vodka at the rooftop bar at the Peninsula Hotel (yeah, yeah, I know, how cool I was, but there’s a point to this story). We’d had drinks at The Peninsula and other places on and off for a while, so it wasn’t all that weird when at some point he suggested I write a movie for him.About? As I recall it, he said, “There’s an older guy with a nice house, and every day a young athletic woman runner runs through through his larg
On The (Mostly) Pit Bull "Squish" (opens the original)
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Worthy Testament: A Tattoed Tale (opens the original)
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A few months after Max died, some of his friends organized a memorial service at a community center in Rochester, NY, where he’d lived for a while. We’d held no memorials back home, not any public anything, not feeling the need to go over anything that had already happened, or be reminded of it in any way. It’s not as if we needed reminding he’d OD’d. Some people seem to go entirely public when their kid dies, giving interviews sometimes involving very good causes. It’s maybe as part of a cathar
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