At this age, I planned on becoming a rock star. When your parents play David Bowie and ZZ Top nonstop, it’s hard not to convince yourself.

A few years later, I told my second-grade class that I would become a lawyer. In my defense, I had built up quite a high profile at the dinner table with my cases against wretched vegetables.

Somewhere along the line, I realized that I couldn’t even play recorder, some vegetables are, in fact, OK and coming up with awesome ideas can be just as gratifying as selling out mega-stadiums.

When I’m not obsessing over Philadelphia sports, rewriting my bio or counting down the days until a rewritten GoT finale, I’m probably fiddling with my latest headline.

I can be reached by email, phone or carrier pigeon. Please give notice for carrier pigeons, however. They can be quite startling unannounced.