The release of LOVE IS THE KING, my dad’s new album made with Sammy and me. Available on Bandcamp, everywhere you stream music, and physically at WilcoWorld.net!
The car transport truck almost getting stuck under a viaduct. The driver getting out, smiling and laughing at his near-handiwork. Ten minutes later, me, walking home on a different street. He’s driving on it, having found a safe route around the viaduct. I give him a thumbs-up and he thumbs-ups back.
The lawn-mowing robots on a corporate campus in the suburbs.
The release of Mirror Sound, a book about musicians who self-record I created with Lawrence Azerrad and Daniel Topete. Available here. 😊
Hurley’s “dawn’s early light” reminding me that in all my childhood, I thought “dawn’s early” of the national anthem was a single adjective, like “dawnserly.”
At a socially distanced hang, a friend dropping her phone into a campfire, and me pulling it out with a conveniently located pair of fire tongs. It survived with screen damage.
Feeling the back of my bottom teeth for the first time in like 10 years, after getting my bottom retainer wire removed.
Tr*mp campaign advisor Mercedes Schlapp’s tweet comparing Biden’s town hall to an episode of Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood, as if that were a diss, reminding me of this post I wrote in 2018.
While buying a garbage can at a home improvement store, the cashier asking Jason and me if we would like to put her in the garbage can and take her home.
The Calvin drawing-esque decal on a pickup truck at a gas station in Indiana: “Nobody cares about your stupid little family,” beneath a stick-figure airplane dropping bombs on a stick-figure family.
Watching the Vice Presidential debate, struggling to understand what motivates someone like Mike Pence to do the things he does. I know the answers are there. They’re not easy to accept.
The person pushing a bike stacked with like eight wooden dining chairs.
The cubic church building, which was once painted gray and had no windows, is now a hyper-hip office with art and large ferns in its newly cut windows [also: 2-16-20].
How, when I use my family’s new Dyson vacuum cleaner, it feels like the walls ratchet up into the sky, our roof slides off, lights and cameras repel in, and I’m on a soundstage shooting an ad for Dyson, where I play the incredulous young guy who can’t believe how well the vacuum works on every surface, every time, with hardly any noise, so much better than any other vacuum he’s seen in his twenty-four years of life, and Mom plays the mom who’s excited her son is finally enthusiastic about a vacuum.
