I hadn't been out of the country since before I first heard the word "covid," and my vacation was a welcome inversion: Faraway friends and family, who'd been confined to 2D screens for years, morphed into 3D people I could hug and dance with and watch lovingly out of the corner of my eye. And the psychic sludge of the American news cycle retreated to 2D. Vacation rules applied; I let myself flick right past the endless parade of screenshot tweets, barely skim the headlines, delete every newsletter, tune out the cicada drone of politicians.

The genuine pleasure of de-centering America! How had I forgotten it? Being several time zones away from home is, for me, the geopolitical equivalent of standing in the redwoods or at the base of a mountain: A way to feel appropriately tiny. 

From the passport control line on my way back home, I text a friend to ask if there's a German word for "happy to leave; happy to return." (Does this exist in any language? Please let me know.) Even though it's only been two weeks, I find my beloved bubble much different than I left it. There is fresh heartbreak and excitement in the lives of people I love. The yard is feral. Half of the hardy bougainvillea is dead; a gentle nasturtium has climbed halfway up the birch tree. I'm not sure yet how this newsletter has changed in my absence. But like everything, I'm sure it's benefited from some time away from the center. 

"Why do people feel compelled to post that there is nothing appropriate or efficacious to post?"

The circumstances that allow for the mass murder of children are inherently political. Jelani Cobb nails it, heartbreakingly. And this story about the community of parents whose children were killed in school shootings absolutely destroyed me.

"Why is the gap between 'how I’m doing' and 'how America is doing' so dramatic?" asks Derek Thompson. Planet Money has a great explainer on recessions—what they are and what they aren't.

"Heard’s story is remarkably unremarkable," writes Michael Hobbes in a summary of the Depp-Heard trial (and the related online circus) that I found useful after weeks of reflexively scrolling past all courtroom images. LISTEN TO SURVIVORS. I also cosign this sentiment from Zan Romanoff.

A lovely little essay by Ella Baxter, whose novel I just ordered: "I become aware that each piece of furniture will outlive me, and the house might outlive us all. The baby—god willing—will outlive me. The citrus trees will outlive him if the drought breaks. As I push the pram through the door, and unstack the things in the hallway, I ask my husband if a house can be a mother because we live inside it."

Birding saved one man’s life. Kevin Nguyen asks whether it can save the rest of us from climate change?

And a few books I read and loved while on vacation: Natasha Brown's Assembly, Deborah Levy's Real Estate, and Kate Bowler's No Cure for Being Human.

 

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Snooze, a funny and affecting podcast about people finally doing the big things they've put off.

This is about being in your bubble vs being outside of it.

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The widely circulated internet theory that Billy Joel's "Piano Man" is, in fact, set in a gay bar. Happy Pride month!