- The cashier’s plexiglass shield at the neighborhood burrito joint: gone.
- The man shaving while driving.
- Casey’s first-ever vinyl DJ set. She killed it!
- The Tweedy band playing Rivets Stadium near Rockford, IL to a great audience.
- Walking to the stage while a fireworks display detonated mere yards away from us.
- The tiny bugs landing, bouncing on my snare drum like popcorn.
- The amateur-launched fireworks misfiring, heading toward a herd of parents and small children, who scrambled, running, when a chunk of fiery material flew at them. (All were OK!)
- The teenager holding a Roman candle but looking away, not enjoying the fruits of his risk-taking, only the thrill of taking the risk.
- Summer of Soul 😭 Mahalia Jackson, Stevie, Mavis… people.
- The very kind comment a fan made to me at Menards.
- A sold-out Case Oats show on the patio at the Hideout, the venue’s first official show back!
- Always cleaning water droplets (from handwash splashing) off toilet seats, lest anyone think I left pee there.
- The woman wearing a “Jesus Is My Boss” hat.
- Understanding one or two Arabic words spoken by two men in a gas station, thanks to my recent Hebrew lessons.
- Eating dehydrated leak chips with Jason, Casey, and some strangers on Belmont Avenue.
- Grilling for hours — Impossible patties, corn, and bell pepper skewers — with friends.
- The group of six urban-dwelling, gun lobby-despising quasi-pacifists shooting La Croix cans with BB guns, of which I was a part.
- The t-shirt on the back of a dad at a beloved local hot dog joint: “I lubricate my AR-15 with liberal tears.” His son saw me staring.
- Cleaning vintage poop particles out of a 1965 pink toilet.
- A bizarre and somewhat harrowing night out in Chicago’s West Loop.
- Thinking of the lifting of mask mandates the way I think about the fake end of Chicago winter. It seems like the snowfall is over in March, but there’s actually much cold to come, so I don’t unbrace myself until spring has fully arrived.
- The Jackson Pollock ranch dressing spill on the hotel rug.
- Recalibrating my tolerance of uncertainty with regard to solving problems and making things.
- The massive calzone with what can only be described as veggie water inside.
- Playing MASS MoCA with Dad!
- Hearing reports that there is a gaggle of LARPers nearby, staying in the same hotel.
- The little spider webs holding rain, spun across the tops of short hedges.
- Compare and Despair by youbet.
- The absolutely bonkers appropriation of Black music on pop country music radio.
- Advice from folks who’ve died or almost died that I contemplate all the time:
- “I open bad wine.”
- “Eat the Danish.”
- The super cool, circular, mid-century church on the border of Chicago and Niles.
- Cutting my hand on a Goya bean can.
- Basil’s new backpack. (That is, Casey’s and my new backpack meant for carrying Basil.)
- Celebrating (remotely) the rabbinic ordination of Tamar Manasseh, founder of MASK.
- Peering down at the bottom of a clear Lake Michigan.
- The sea of sun umbrellas as seen from a paddleboard a couple hundred feet out.
- Paddling up to a buoy to discover it was actually a red balloon, partially deflated, sitting on the lake surface.
- The families wading in the murky creek water.
- Basil chasing a big blue heron out of a pond.
- Rehearsing with Cosmic Country Showcase and Sima Cunningham’s Aux Thom.
- “Nature has fat” — author Daniel Suarez referring to the lessons on resilience we can take from natural systems, and the folly of valuing efficiency at the expense of all else.
- The LED stage lights illuminating the nighttime Wisconsin mist.
- Ben Cruz of Moontype’s inventive, fluid, beautiful guitarplaying.
- The bright purple flesh of the marinated eggplant strips, looking like fish fillets.
- The feeling of relief after exiting a swelteringly hot porta-potty.