Tiffany asked me what I wanted for my 51st year, and my quick answer was “to get to the money.”
To sit courtside at Los Angeles Sparks games and say hi to Dee, our favorite bartender in the Delta Sky lounge.
To travel for basketball reasons on a whim. To join our wealthier friends in donating to the arts.
To become fluent in opera.
To be a patron of the spaces that generate the vibes I want to see in the world.
We stood in line at the home opener for ACFC, surrounded by people who want to live in the same inclusive, collaborative, and supportive society that I want, and that’s what I desire.
More of this.
More reminders that the chaos on our screens isn’t always reflective of the realities of our neighborhoods.
I want to love my neighbor like atoms sharing a cell.
I want to love my body like a turtle loves its shell.
I want to be where joy is.
I want to be joy.
I want joy.
Joy.
What do I want in my 51st year?
To rain down joy on my loved ones and enemies alike.
My mom sent a picture of her view in the northeast corner of the Valley early Friday evening before sunset.
I didn’t understand what direction she was facing. I thought it might have been the Lidia Fire burning on its last legs east of her or the Kenneth Fire to her southwest. She texted that she was looking due south to the mountains behind Encino, just a neighborhood or two over from us. She sent a second pic as dusk turned to night, which shocked me, and I looked out our window to deep red plumes, dark smoke, and flames exploding from the back of the hillside. The mountains often feel close enough to touch from our vantage point, five miles away. It was the first time I thought we might have to evacuate, not just in this wildfire disaster but in any Southern California disaster of the last twenty years.
We checked our go-bags, filled a few extra pieces of luggage, and confirmed we had everything necessary, like my passport and booze. Tiffany packed the car so we could be even more ready. As our ongoing crisis in LA moved closer than ever towards us, I turned on the TV and found local news. It was surreal to watch and hear broadcasters talk about firefighting efforts that we could see occurring in real time every time we looked out our dining room window.
Although the evacuation warning zones were within walking distance of us, The fact that an evacuation center was set up less than a mile from our home comforted me as we slept in our beds.
The following morning, the sun shone, and the winds were calm. White smoke over those mountaintops seemed like welcome progress. I sought out trusted local and national sources for additional context. I used the non-profit app Watch Duty for updates. Tiffany turned the local news back on. The battle raged throughout the day with meaningful progress as we hit dusk. This morning, after I had slept hard for ten hours, we awoke to clear skies where the inferno had raged 36 hours prior.
What I had little desire to do over that time when the crisis was so close to home was jump to social media.
I’ve seen tremendous value in social networks as a utility this past week: it’s great for finding out if loved ones, friends, and acquaintances are safe; mutual aid networks scale awareness for those in need quickly in these spaces; if you’ve tuned your feeds right, you might see things that deepen your understanding, build your resolve, make you laugh, or remind you that the folks you know and follow are primarily lovely people who want to take care of each other.
TikTok will likely disappear in the US by the end of the month, and I’m not sure I will miss it. The time I spend consuming content is overwhelmingly empty calories. I could be spending that time reading or idling, granting my brain a more hearty diet than the dopamine rush.
The communities I enjoy interacting with on Threads may not survive Mark Zuckerberg’s MAGA machinations, and I will miss that if it happens. However, I’m not sure I have the energy to invest in another Social Media space beyond distributing my blog. The other upstart networks just haven’t been my thing.
I don’t want to chase your attention. I don’t want to be your audience. I want to be a part of something real.
When real shit goes down, these digital networks only simulate community and often through a funhouse mirror.
Real human networks come together directly. Like this week, the city of stars has proven itself as a city of angels every day, especially in times like these.
At times, we might use these platforms to help facilitate coordinated action but they aren’t are our only resource and likely aren’t even the best.
The best might be just going where you’re needed and asking, “How can I help?”
And yet, I am grateful. The sun is shining. There is breath in my lungs. My legs work. I have a roof over my head. I have food in my fridge. There is love, laughter, and light in my life everywhere I look.
I give thanks to the medical professionals who cared for me this year through shingles and a ruptured appendix. I’m grateful for those who showed compassion and kindness for my father in his final days.
I’m grateful for sports, especially women’s basketball. I haven’t done a complete count, but I may have attended over 50 sporting events this year, spanning the NCAAWBB, WNBA, NWSL, NFL, and NCAAWVB in three states. Sports have brought new friends into my life and deepened my connection with people I’ve known for years. They deliver joy when desperately needed and never fail to surprise and delight. Thank you.
I’m grateful for family, friends, and colleagues who stepped up when my chips were down.
I’m grateful for my mom and sister as we grieve separately and together. They lift me up.
And then there’s Tiffany, the love of my life, my person, my partner, who has been, well, everything over the last 12 months.
I have been searching for an app to replace Evernote for quite some time now. Although I thought Notion was the one, I eventually gave up after using it for nearly two years as it was too heavy for personal use.
First, I stopped using it to capture my “read later” links. Instead, I used bookmarks and read later in Safari until I stumbled across Anybox in a newsletter or blog post. Since then, I’ve been bookmarking everything I read in Anybox. It works across all my devices and browsers, helping me stay synced between my personal and work laptops.
Recently, I started using Apple Notes as a primary rather than occasional tool. I use it as my journal and for storing digital keepsakes. I’m still exploring its features and learning to use smart tags to my advantage.
My awareness of the relative ease and utility of Notes began as my family collaborated more in keeping track of my dad’s Cancer treatment. We shared documents where we captured his systems and care plans, wrote official messages from the family, and even managed memorial service planning together over the last few weeks.
I’m also using Habitify to track my habits. It’s a paid app, but not a subscription, with a one-time fee to unlock all features. It does the data visualizations I was missing before, and it’s cute and simple to set up. Tiffany goes with paper, though, because apps be snitchin’.
Today, I recreated my run tracker in Sheets after exporting and transforming the data I kept in Notion. It now presents my data precisely as I want, and I can tweak it when my needs change.
I have learned that I don’t need one perfect app to rule them all. Most apps have gotten very good at doing one thing or a limited suite of similar tasks well, and separating these tasks makes it much easier to switch or sample other things instead of worrying about the sunk costs in one über-app.
“I been in my bag addin’ weight. Tryna throw a bag in the safe”
— Anderson .Paak
What did you do in 2019 that you’d never done before?
We bought a house.
There was also the two week period across April and May when I traveled from LA to Miami (first time in the city) to LA to NYC to LA to Mexico City (also, a first) to LA and back to Florida with no more than a day’s rest every time I was back in LA.
That was nuts.
I’m sure there were other firsts, but those stand out.
Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I remarked to Tiffany yesterday that I appreciated my body lately. My hips are loosening thanks to some focus on my stretching and yoga in that area. And while the number on the scale isn’t where I would like, I like the angles of my physique these days. I have been having some of the longest and best workouts of my life in the last few weeks and broke my elliptical record today.
So, yeah, I did that.
I don’t know that I’ll make resolutions this year. I saw something somewhere—Instagram, probably—that suggested that instead of setting goals, write down what you’re excited about in the new year. I kind of like that idea.
Yes. We attended the wedding of a close family friend in October and delighted in the marriage of one of our favorite Sparks players.
Did anyone close to you die?
There were some unexpected deaths in acquaintance circles, but I don’t think the reaper came to the doors of anyone close to me.
What countries did you visit?
Mexico was the only country outside of the USA I made it to this year.
What would you like to have in 2020 that you lacked in 2019?
Time. There was a lot of change and transition in 2019. These changes required me to be outside of my routines and comfort zones for much of the last three months. That led to me not making the best use of my free time when I had it and not utilizing my time most optimally when I was on someone else’s clock.
I’m entering the year with a plan to tackle this problem.
What date from 2019 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
What was your most significant achievement of the year?
I got promoted again this year.
I also got invited to interview for a job with a much fancier title than the one I have right now at a desirable place, which was very flattering but ultimately not for me at this time. My work and what I bring to the table being recognized and compensated appropriately felt big this year. As Clarence Avant says over and over again in The Black Godfather, “Life is about one thing, numbers.”
And, you know, I am currently a numbers guy.
What was your biggest failure?
Every time I walked past my unhoused neighbors and felt helpless instead of offering help or a neighborly word.
Did you suffer illness or injury?
I was incredibly healthy this year (knock on wood).
What was the best thing you bought?
The condo.
Every time I walk the three blocks to Ventura boulevard or the two blocks to the grocery store or trek on foot to the library or stop at Trader Joe’s or the mall on the way home or use our kitchen or admire our views are reminders that this was the right choice.
My mom asked if we were getting excited about paying the mortgage every month and watching the number come down. Excited isn’t the right word. Maybe the right word is gratifying.
To know that paying it isn’t a struggle is nice.
Whose behavior merited celebration?
Round two for last year’s all-star. Melle continues to do the damn thing. Now under her non-profit shingle.
Where did most of your money go?
Did you know buying property is expensive?
What did you get really, really, really excited about?
WNBA All-Star in Vegas was everything and more, and I was hyped the whole time.
Unequivocally happier. It’s been a grand year in my corner of the world.
ii. Thinner or fatter?
I weigh almost the same as the beginning of the year but feel great.
iii. Richer or poorer?
We still make that paper, and now we own property.
What do you wish you’d done more of?
More time for family and friends. More dates with the lady. More hosting people in our new home.
What do you wish you’d done less of?
Idling on the iPad. Tik Tok is addictive as hell.
How did you spend Christmas?
Here in LA. My parents and sister came to the house, and we made brunch together. We had a small but meaningful gift exchange. And the Clippers beat the Lakers.
Good and Mad: The Revolutionary Power of Women’s Anger by Rebecca Traister
The Making of a Manager by Julie Zhuo
The Library Book by Susan Orlean
The Avant-Guards, Vol. 1 by Carly Usdin
What was your most significant musical discovery of 2019?
I hadn’t paid much attention to Nipsey Hussle’s music before he was killed in the spring. He was so beloved in Los Angeles, though, that I had to stop and figure out why. It was a revelation.
I get it now.
What did you want and get?
Impeachment even though ain’t nothin’ goan happen.
What did you want and not get?
A resignation. All things considered, though, it’s been such a good year personally and professionally, ain’t no complaints.
What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Nearly the same note as last year: The Sparks did go deep into the WNBA Playoffs this year but flamed out in one of the most head-scratching exits in league history.
I worry the championship window is closing for this team in this configuration, but I’m hoping there’s one more run in 2020.
What political issue stirred you the most?
My interests this year were more local than the national garbage fire that is this current administration. LA figuring out real solutions to our homelessness and general housing issues is top of mind every time I enter our community.
Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
R. Kelly.
How would you describe your fashion concept in 2019?
I cleaned up nicely this year with more blazers, fancy button-downs, and quality shoes.
What kept you sane?
Reading or listening to the news on my schedule. Keeping my nose in a book. Hitting the gym nearly every day.
Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Regina King had herself a year, didn’t she? Kenan Thompson’s work on SNL has been next level.
Who did you miss?
Shana. While I’m happy with my current work situation, not getting to talk pop culture and process with her every day was and is a bummer.
Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2019.
Do what you say you’re going to do.
Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
“Bossed up, flossed up, fly like a saucer, live in the moment.”
It was the first night of my New York trip that I had gotten a decent night’s sleep
My back wasn’t stiff
Everything fit in my suitcase without much trouble
My flight was still on time despite the previous day’s airport drama.
The front desk lady’s New York accent and banter
The bite in the cold morning air
The relative quiet of the 7 am Saturday morning streets in NoMad
The smile of my Lyft driver
The lightning charger in the back of his car
The ease of the ride to JFK
The ease of the TSA pre-check line
The pleasantness, consideration, and care of every black Airport worker I encountered including the one who informed me my coat had escaped from its tie to my backpack
The short line at Shake Shack
The bacon, egg, and cheese from Shake Shack
The Shake Shack employee who showed up right on time with the fresh bottled water
The baby’s face that lit up when she saw mine
The free wifi in JFK
The chance to complete my Saturday Morning music rituals
Not remembering when I fell asleep but knowing it was likely in mid-conversation with Tiffany, our hands or feet touching for the first time in a week
The last essay in Zadie Smith’s Feel Free is titled, Joy. In Joy, Smith considers the difference between Joy and pleasure. She finds happiness in many things throughout the day but only sees a few moments in her life as ones of pure joy. It was a timely read as I prepared to write this response to Tiffany’s Twitter question:
It’s like this. The only expectations I have for most days is that I will be the best person I can be within its confines. I find pleasure in many things big and small (many, many little things) throughout every day starting with the small delight that I awoke once again. I have an extremely short memory for frustrations, challenges, and setbacks. I rarely recognize, let alone acknowledge, aggression as it happens which, I imagine, naturally deflates most of those situations. I assume just about everyone I meet has a harder day than I do. I’m comfortable with change and prone to adaptation. Things that could be better that I can influence, I do. Things I know that are beyond me at that moment don’t get dwelled upon.
I enjoy this life.
This isn’t all gravy. Throughout the many conversations I’ve had with others who’ve taken the FiveThirtyEight personality quiz, I’ve come to realize that my relationship with anger (or lack thereof) has created a big gap in my ability to empathize effectively with those who do experience frustration or anger more easily. It is a struggle for me to connect with something in myself that feels similar. I can appreciate why someone else is angry. I’ve learned to accept the idea that anger is a valid response to a situation but, it’s foreign to me.
I love to argue over ideas and ways of being. I share this trait with my mother. We also both have a propensity for being passionate in our position without realizing that passion can be seen as an attack until it’s too late. That we don’t take a heated debate as personal doesn’t mean others operate in the same fashion.
My forgetfulness for “bad things” makes it hard for me to be a good critic or judge of particulars. I take what I need and leave the rest. This can be annoying for those who want a more technical accounting of my feedback. I’m sorry, though, I have no similar mental checklist for this as I do for those pleasures and pleasantries noted above.
In the end, though, I operate from a place of realistic optimism. I know bad things happen. I’m aware of how much a struggle being on this mortal plane can be but, every day, it’s just as likely things go right as the other way. Nothing’s a certainty, but, hey, we may overcome.
And that’s enough to put a smile on my face, a flutter in my heart, a sparkle in my eyes, a dip in my dimples, and a dance in my step.
“That’s a big beautiful bush,” she said. I didn’t reply with the twelve-year-old’s retort that entered my brain. The bush was stunning and tall, a shock of beauty that demanded attention.
“Let me take your picture,” she said. Tiffany declined, but I was into it. I remembered previous photos of myself amongst the poppies or in the pool in our villa in Jimbaran Bay with a flower in my hair. Those moments where how I felt inside actually came through the camera lens.
I brought my hands to my chin mimicking many an Instagram selfie. The young ladies next to us who were also taking pics said, “SAAAAME,” and my grin grew.
Shot by Melissa Acedera
I thought they were taking pictures for a wedding but after our viewing of the King Tut exhibit—a thing you should do—we realized it was prom night for many a local high school, two of whom were having their coming-of-age event in Science Center venues around Exposition Park. We stopped and watched a bit as couples arrived at the Wallis Annenberg Building. A red carpet had been rolled down the staircase. Underclassmen lined the carpet to greet arriving guests while teachers stood at the top in their chaperone attire.
In the rose garden, parents took pictures and friends greeted each other with delight and surprise, seeing each other dressed to the nines for perhaps the first time. A young woman walked towards her friends in a dark, full-length gown, the bodice elegantly beaded and stitched. Her hair was perfect. Unlike others, she wasn’t struggling in her shoes. She couldn’t contain her smile as she approached and her braces gleamed in the evening sun.
“Yolanda, what the heck,” her friend shouted looking her up and down. They grinned at each other and hugged and quickly got in formation for another photo.
Tiffany was emotional. “I love these big moments of transition,” she said. I do, too. Those moments when we believe anything is possible. Those few times in life when we feel both accomplished and anxious for what’s next. Prom night in Los Angeles in 2018 amongst the big beautiful bushes of expo park with a bunch of goofy grinning old heads gawking at them, those kids were the stars.
I’m halfway through Wild, Wild Country. I’m a bit familiar with the story because of a 99% Invisible episode from a few years back. Sometimes, though, you’ve got to see it to not believe it. The 80s were, ahem, wild.
“You don’t have to say anything to the haters. You don’t have to acknowledge them at all. You just wake up every morning and be the best you you can be. And that tends to shut them up” ~ Michelle Obama pic.twitter.com/dxn199dcSz
I consumed almost all my podcasts this week via NPR One (the app rather the website). I’ve been looking for a better podcast listening experience. I’m a relatively long-time user of Pocketcasts, and they do the best job of the different tools I’ve tried, but there were a few things that were frustrating to me, and it feels silly that there isn’t a purely lovely tool for listening considering how long this kind of audio storytelling has been around now.
Then a funny thing happened, I enjoyed using the app. There are little things, like hearing radio news pieces mixed in with my podcasts which I don’t get in other experiences. There are big things, like the Explore section which is well curated and has some algorithmic logic that is getting good rather quickly at understanding what I like to listen to and suggesting them. And then astounding things, like suggesting podcasts from my local station that I didn’t even know existed.
I talk about KCRW Press Play a lot. It’s my local news show. Madeleine Brand is my primary sherpa for figuring out what’s going on in Los Angeles and how we fit in the rest of the world. The April 8th, 2016 episode features seven minutes with Zoey Tur, the broadcast journalist that invented the car chase to talk about the particularly epic one we had this week.
There are sixty-three episodes of The Organist—a collaboration between KCRW and The Believer—and I had never heard of it before. How is this possible?! This episode is written by Buzzfeed Emerging Writers FellowNiela Orr talking about LA Art-Rapper Busdriver’s new podcast and putting it in the context of the tradition of black activist radio. One of the best produced and best sounding podcasts I’ve heard in a long while.
I’m not sure I’m all in on Buzzfeed’s Internet Explorer. It spends an awful lot of time in areas of the web I actively try to avoid and it’s hosts are engaging but not necessarily charming and, I like charm. This mini-series, though, does an excellent job of reminiscing about these individual years in surprising ways. They also pushed me to think about what I was doing on the internet (besides working) in those years.
In 2010, I was blogging much more frequently than I do now and IMing with my long-distance fiancé, Tiffany.
In 2005, I was a B or C grade blog star, editing LAist, and talking about identity blogging at SXSW.
In 1999, I ran an electronic pro-wrestling federation (hosted on Tripod) in which I would book and write shows and generate results using a text-based wrestling simulator that somebody far nerdier than I had created and shared for free online. As Katie Notopolous notes in the episode, wrestling was enormously popular at this time.
We Live Here is a podcast from St. Louis Public Radio. NPR One threw this in the mix while I was listening this morning cleaning the kitchen. The question: why don’t we (the collective, societal, we) believe poor people and black people when they highlight systemic issues? The answer is well told, leads to more questions, and has me clamoring to hear everything else in this series. Also, there’s a good dig at Vox thrown in there off-handedly.
I talked about Tripod last week. I’ll probably talk about them every week. This episode, though? I want it to be made into a movie. Also, if you ever want to understand how deep into slavery America was, consider that illegal/pirate slave traders from other countries would raise the US Flag in the 1800s to protect themselves from the British Navy who were aggressively seeking to end the trade after it was abolished in the early part of the 19th Century. It’s so deep. Plus, there’s an Aaliyah song clip from her best album which is impossible to find on your favorite streaming services.
I doubt I could listen to every episode of Alec Baldwin’s Here’s the Thing but Jimmy Fallon is such a good guest in this one—also an NPR One suggestion—that I will probably stick around for other episodes that the app recommends.
If you decide to try NPR One, let me know what you think. Also, how are you consuming podcasts beyond NPR One?
“There’s no righteousness in your darkest moment.” — Sleater-Kinney, Sympathy
Thank you, 2015, for pushing me to go beyond what’s comfortable. For giving Tiffany great work opportunities and a shake up to her routine (and mine). For London. For meaningful conversations with loved ones. For Dominique Toney on my tv. For Omaha. For 80 years of Pauline. For successful knee surgeries. For xoxo. For the creative work I was able to do around the GRAMMYs and elsewhere. For getting to highlight my mom in some of those ventures. For DC. For reconnections with old friends and acquaintances. For new friends. For Kendrick, Kamasi, and Kaiyote. For the Force and Furiosa. And Creed. For Coates and Woodson and James and G. Willow. For being able to see myself and people who look like my friends in the pop culture narrative. For Hamilton. For biscuits. For basketball. For acknowledging the passage of time and being okay with who I am and who I’m not in this moment.
Tiffany is off to Washington DC for a few months doing good works. She’s been doing cool shit all year (ed. note: Have you bought CSS Master yet? Stop reading right now and improve your code life) but this is the first time she’s left for an extended period since our union.
It’s only been like three days but dang. The house is too quiet. Time has slowed down. And, I need projects.
Yesvember
Kid President tweeted this just this morning, and I’m on board.
I’m focusing on my fitness y’all. The eight or so people that actually watch my snaps with any regularity know I’ve been toying with a fitness challenge. I tried one at the beginning of October: a 30 day commitment that died on day 14 when my legs gave out. This month, I’m going to give it another go.
21 Days of running or biking. At least 20 minutes. Preferably 30. No Days Off.
I’ve also been wanting to try a meal service. I have proven over 40 years that I don’t really have the personal discipline to manage my own eating in a healthy manner and with Tiffany not here cooking regularly, the risk of lots of Chipotle and Popeye’s runs is high so…
I just had some breakfast tacos. Not bad. Not bad at all.
Netflix and Clones
Derrick peeped me to this chronological list for viewing the animated series Star Wars:The Clone Wars which I’ve watched in bits & pieces over the years but never consistently. It’s been much more enjoyable this way.
There are projects around the house that need tending. I’m going to make a list of them and…probably send them to our landlord. I’m not Fix-It Felix. I may do some re-organizing, though. Sorry, Tiffany.
Reading List
Books and everything in my Pocket. I cleared so much out of my backlog yesterday afternoon. I felt smarter and unburdened.
