Morgan Davis


Sam the Cooking Guy

Sam the Cooking Guy with Morgan the Eating Guy

I love to cook. So I had to meet Sam Zien (aka Sam the Cooking Guy) at a book signing today. He’s quite the character in the kitchen on TV, but super nice and humble when you meet him. He spent time talking with everyone. I was one of the last people in a very long line to get my book signed (see video of crowd on Facebook), and he still took his time, chatted with me, joked and we laughed… it was great. He even thanked me for waiting so long to get the autograph. What a cool guy, and I just love his cooking philosophy: big taste, little effort. Perfect!

Some guy (not me!) shot some video of the event (see below). It’s a funky little edit job, rather sophomoric, but the only video I could find.


My Father’s Hands

These are the hands that I held when I was very small. These are the hands of a meat cutter who followed those of his father. These are the hands that showed me how to lay my fingers across the threads of a baseball to throw the perfect pitch. These are the hands that gently rested on my shoulders while singing “Sunshine on My Shoulders” in the car. These are the hands that taught me how to hold a racquetball racket and grip a golf club correctly. These are the 74-year-old hands of my dad on Fathers Day — hands that I am blessed to still be able to hold.

My Father's Hands

One of the great things about cell phones these days is that you always have a camera with you.  The trouble is, they do a poor job of photos in low-light conditions.  They turn out lifeless, dark, grainy, and basically dreadful. And this shot in a bar was no exception. It was one of those photos you take and then realize how grateful there is a trash can icon right there to mash, expunging it from its pathetic existence. But every now and then, with the help of software like Photoshop, you can infuse life into the lifeless. This shot turned out to be a perfect example of pixel recycling.  For some reason, I love the amorphous people, the glow of the cash register monitor on the face of the bartender, the curling edges on the cocktail napkin under the wine glass, and the warm glow over the rack of glasses. That’s how the bar truly felt, even if the shutter (well, sensor-on-a-chip) couldn’t quite get it right. Hooray for embellishment.