Chuck Sigars has been writing his weekly column for Beacon newspapers, “Chuck’s World,” since 2001. You would think he’d be better at it by now.
Born in southern California, Chuck grew up mostly in Phoenix, Ariz. before moving to the Pacific Northwest in 1983.
An award-winning college actor and playwright (very small awards, some of them only theoretical), Chuck soon turned his attention to becoming an inept father, husband and homeowner, mining his misadventures for public amusement.
He is the father of two children, Beth (30) and John (25), and has been married to Julie Kae Sigars, a musician, college professor and Presbyterian minister (someone in the family had to have a real job), since 1983.
Chuck is the author of four books, the most recent of which is "Learning to Walk," a memoir of sorts, published in February 2015.
In 2013, Chuck played the title role in Winning Dad, an independent Seattle film that has attracted a bit of global attention and is currently wandering the film festival circuit, with a Seattle premiere scheduled for fall 2015.
Chuck has a website (www.chucksigars.com), a blog, and half a dozen email addresses, although he can usually be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Or you can often find him in his backyard, trying to start his lawnmower and acknowledging the superior life form status of blackberry brambles. Try not to sneak up on him; he spooks easily.
Recent Column Posts (1 - 4) Additional Posts (5 - 347)
By Chuck Sigars - Oct 19I’ve seen a lot of Bruce Springsteen lately, with his new book out and him being interviewed by everyone apparently able to borrow a microphone. It...
By Chuck Sigars - Oct 05A guy once walked up to Tip O’Neill, the former speaker of the House, stuck out his hand, and said, “Hi, Tip. How have you been?” O’Neill, not ...
By Chuck Sigars - Oct 12I've been given books on three different occasions in the past couple of weeks. Not unheard of but a little unusual. Not new books, which would be ...
By Chuck Sigars - Sep 28I don’t want to break the fourth wall here, or touch the third rail, or pull back the curtain or whatever I’m not supposed to do but will do ...