A lazy morning on the couch, waiting for the Packers game to start. Cup of coffee, fireplace roaring (hey, it's almost 50 degrees), dogs sleeping on the floor. I don't particularly like the Patriots but I like that they're beating Buffalo, just because I still see them as the underdog. Obviously, I don't feel the same about the Bears beating the Browns. Or the Jets, for that matter.
I am trying to give up doom scrolling. The algorithm knows me well, sucking me in and holding my attention. I don't usually pay attention until the evening, when Callie and I are hanging out and I'm not too interested in another episode of SVU.
Doom scrolling doesn't feel toxic in the moment, but in the four nights I have avoided looking at my phone I've slept better. No anxious 3 am wakeup, no need to take deep calming breaths in the darkness. I often lie there and wonder what I'm worried about and have absolutely no answer.
Greeting from Copenhagen, home to tall men and beautiful women. Callie and I just ran into my good friend (and four-minute miler) Joe Fabris in the train station. Sheer coincidence. Travel and its adventures sometimes yield random moments of wonder like that. Pretty amazing.
I'm researching and writing my way through Europe….
I was going to write something political for Barack Obama Day but I just don't have the energy. I'm so sick and tired of being fearful. Tired of hearing the word "dystopian." So, with the words of "Long Walk Home" ringing in my ears ("that flag flying over the courthouse means certain things are set in stone; who we are and what we'll do and what we won't"), I think I'll just write about the signing I'm doing this afternoon. Because it gives me great joy, which is very much what I need right now.
I went to Disneyland for my birthday. It's the ultimate place to people watch. Calene and I go now and again just to walk around and enjoy the vibe. Ride the roller coasters. It's best in February on a rainy day when all the kids are in school. But even yesterday's sticky-hot, overcrowded Sunday had its moments.
It's been a busy week with Taking Midway publicity. There's been a couple radio call-ins, a zoom or two. I put on my best face and pick up the volume, then answer questions. There's no such thing as bad publicity and I'm enjoying every minute. The book is off to a good start. A lot of five-star Amazon reviews. There's always someone who sneaks in a three-star, or even a one-star, mostly based on issues having nothing to do with the book. Things like Springsteen in Manchester or the final chapters of Confronting the Presidents.
Taking Midway comes out tomorrow. I almost forgot. I mean, not really. I get paid on publication, which makes it worth remembering. It's getting great reviews. Also nice. But almost a year has passed since I finished. That's the nature of this game. You write a book. Make it the best you can. Then wait and wait and wait until it goes into stores.
That's not why May 20 crept up on me…
I was walking through the grocery store parking lot, heading in to pick up a few supplies. Just minding my own business. A middle school kid on an e-bike swerved to miss an approaching car and braked to a sudden halt ten feet in front of me.
"How do you like my bike?" he yelled. Yelled. Like we knew each other.
It was sudden and unexpected, a character in a movie breaking the fourth wall and talking to the audience directly from the screen.
