Reviews Lifestyle The New Sober Boom Getting Hooked on Quitting Education Liberal Arts Cuts Are Dangerous Is College Necessary? Finance Dying Parents Costing Millennials Dear Gen Z Investing In Le Creuset Crypto Investing SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters ‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

Lifestyle The New Sober Boom Getting Hooked on Quitting

Getting Hooked on Quitting

Education Liberal Arts Cuts Are Dangerous Is College Necessary?

Liberal Arts Cuts Are Dangerous

Is College Necessary?

Finance Dying Parents Costing Millennials Dear Gen Z Investing In Le Creuset

Dying Parents Costing Millennials Dear

Gen Z Investing In Le Creuset

Crypto Investing SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters ‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

Investing SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters ‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters

‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

Reviews Lifestyle The New Sober Boom Getting Hooked on Quitting Education Liberal Arts Cuts Are Dangerous Is College Necessary? Finance Dying Parents Costing Millennials Dear Gen Z Investing In Le Creuset Crypto Investing SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters ‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

Lifestyle The New Sober Boom Getting Hooked on Quitting

Getting Hooked on Quitting

Education Liberal Arts Cuts Are Dangerous Is College Necessary?

Liberal Arts Cuts Are Dangerous

Is College Necessary?

Finance Dying Parents Costing Millennials Dear Gen Z Investing In Le Creuset

Dying Parents Costing Millennials Dear

Gen Z Investing In Le Creuset

Crypto Investing SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters ‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

Investing SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters ‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

SEC vs Celebrity Crypto Promoters

‘Dark’ Personalities Drawn to BTC

A cross-country road trip with my dog pulled me out of a post-divorce funk

Over 4,000 miles, I came to embrace a future I never expected to face alone

Published June 1, 2026 1:30PM (EDT)

Driving 4,000 miles through the hottest, windiest, and dustiest parts of Texas, Arizona, and California in a car with the engine power of a really expensive electric bicycle, while managing a gushing perimenopausal period, accompanied only by a reactive dog named Dracula, doesn’t sound like it would be anyone’s best trip, but it was mine.

The road trip in my 40s with my wife, which took us from our shared studio in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, to the Bywater area of New Orleans, with the intent to make a new life together as a married couple, was the one I thought would finally end with me settled and happy. Shocker that, no, it was not.

I have been on many road trips in my life, most of which were planned around some age-appropriate, seemingly life-changing and specific-to-me-hilarious dramatic need for a change in home address. There was the time in my 20s when my best friend helped me load up my red Mitsubishi Mirage to move from California to Illinois after the girlfriend whom I was living with cheated on me with a man named Dino, a betrayal I first attempted to heal from by attending a rave at the Orange Country Fairgrounds, where I did every drug handed to me while drinking discarded bottles of water from the ground and unkowingly peeing my pants. As Romeo said, “O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick.”

There was the time, just a few years later, when I re-loaded that same car to move from Illinois back to California, with a whole new girlfriend as my passenger. She later revealed herself to be the manner of extreme Christian who would, every so often, suggest we try being straight and invite men over to the home we shared, as I sat judgingly, and from a pointed distance, on the couch next to them watching “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.”

There was the time in my early 30s — after a few more moves by car back and forth from California to Illinois, for various messy reasons — when myself, yet another girlfriend, her best friend who is now a........

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