I don't know how to write about this

I don’t know where this newsletter fits in.

I have a lot going on right now.

I want to tell people about it, and I also want to stuff it in an old Folgers can and bury it in a swamp.

People ask me “How are you?” with cheerful voices, and I say “I’m doing okay.” It’s too much to catch you up on, and it feels so heavy to speak any of it out loud anyway.

(And it’s not all heavy anyway. There’s joy, and being present, and thinking everything is sad feels like a performance in itself.)

I think I may write in detail about what’s going on, but it doesn’t feel like the time and it doesn’t feel like fully my story to tell.

In the meantime.

I was re-inspired this week by seeing Wilco live at the Orpheum here in Los Angeles. I have Jeff Tweedy’s book How to Write One Song on my shelf and it’s already wonderful.

We started watching Dickinson on Apple TV+ again. It’s absolutely wonderful. I really love it. I tell everyone to watch it. And yet every adult I’ve recommended it to seems to not enjoy it, so take that with a spoonful of salt and maybe you’ll be the first.

I started playing tennis with my friends Zach and Tim. I haven’t played in… twenty-five years? I’m loving it. (It’s also very COVID-compatible. Lots of distance!)

When KIND bars first came out, I didn’t like them. I tried one again this week. Now I like them. We can grow.

Egg whites in a carton are very convenient.

I’m taking a stand-up comedy class, it’s been good to have some structure to force me to write again. The showcase is in a few weeks, I’ll announce it here, I think it’s a Zoom anyone can watch, if you like.

You can ask me “How are you?”

And I’ll say: “I’m doing my best!”