***Warning—rant to follow.*** It is an irksome and foul thing to feel a duty to relate stories in a sterile, informative manner. This idiotic idea plagues the academic field of history and is a slight to the human dignity of those dead and alive. Why befoul the reality of…
I suppose there are worse places to be homeless than the Swiss Alps during harvest time, but since I had no connections, no destination, no grasp of the language, no roadmap, and not the faintest notion of where I would sleep that night, my circumstances could have been considered unstable…
This is the story of how I ran the original Marathon marathon wearing a pair of (broken) barefoot sandals. It all started as I was lying on a bed in a bunkhouse in New Mexico barely moving due to a lobster like exoskeleton of sunburn covering almost the totality of…
For oh, when the war will be over We'll go and we'll look for our dead; We'll go when the bee's on the clover, And the plume of the poppy is red: We'll go when the year's at…
6:05 AM: Alarm blares, bleeps and is promptly slammed off. Light comes on, twenty seconds of leisurely blinking and eye rubbing is engaged in, then pants are yanked on and young guest swims into a heavy sweater. Feet are socked and shoed, missal and psalter are grabbed, two flights…
My name is Joseph Meyers and for the past couple years I've been wandering around the world having adventures while finishing college remotely and working various jobs. From a shack on a small island off the coast of Alaska, to Budapest, to castles and monasteries in France, to…