It’s an election year. I’ve been sick. I’ve been sleepy. I’ve been nodding vigorously and agreeing every time a 19-month-old points out the window and yells “BUS!”
And so the idea well has been running dry. Below, a rundown of all the newsletter ideas I’ve attempted and abandonded.
A personal view of “sanewashing,” from a political reporter – Look. I’m working my ass off to make my coverage as honest as possible. But that doesn’t mean I can’t improve, right? Right? SO. Do I think I’ve “sanewashed” President Trump? Is “sanewashing” just the new “normalization”? Should I just Do Better™? Should my colleagues? Is this all stuff I should just save for my tell-all memoir? I mean, do I want every amateur media critic on Twitter to swarm? Do I want all my mistakes scrutinized? Do I want to be fired?
Let’s move on.
BUT SERIOUSLY. There is a conversation to be had — a whole-ass intelligent, heartfelt essay, really — about the fact that it feels inherently career-endangering for a journalist to openly contend with the weaknesses in their own work, as well as the systemic problems that enable and even promote those weaknesses. I do not have the stomach, the brain energy, or the time to do such a thing with six weeks until the election.
(But seriously, let’s move on.)
Political Tarot – OK I’ve been incubating this idea for literally years: drawing a card a day and using it to predict/understand the day’s political events, to humorous effect. But then one day you draw Death or The Devil or The Tower and it’s also the day that [candidate X] gives a major speech and once again, I ask you: Do I want to be fired?
Parenting update – Honestly? It’s going great. The other day, I was having a big emotional morning, and my spouse told the toddler, “Go give your mom a hug.” And the kid DID IT.
Like I said, it’s going great. Don’t need an essay to say it.
Coping mechanisms in an election year – Edibles, lifting, staying on my meds, Stephen King novels. Speaking of which…
An ode to Stephen King – I am mainlining Stephen King audiobooks like it’s my job right now. And/but my job right now is to keep my shit together until Election Day, and then Inauguration Day. So the inorganic-yet-it’s-great,-don’t-worry-about-it Kingland patois (“crazier than a shithouse rat” “voh-doh-dee-oh,” “piss up a rope”) that I’ve loved since I was a teenager? The clear goodies-versus-baddies plots? The nameless ancient evils threatening the world over and over again? They’re my security blanket. They’re my warm bubble bath. They’re the protective escapist bubble I retreat into, via my Airpods, to (literally) block out the noise of the world.
All that said, I don’t know if one of the best-selling authors of all time needs a boost from me. So…
An ode to Taxi Driver – OK but seriously, people. I finally saw this movie and my God how is it still so relevant. The dangers of the quotidian isolated angry male creep? In the age of toxic masculinity? I am positive no one has had this take before and I smell a Pulitzer.
Scorcese’s movies, ranked – The only thing worse than a swarm of Twitter media critics might be the film-bro Twitter swarm.
Why I hate the phrase “toxic masculinity” — I keep trying to write this but get exhausted after three paragraphs. But I still hate that fucking phrase.
We don’t talk often enough about how amazing dehumidifiers and lint traps and ice cube makers are – I think about this daily.
Am I a boring person now? – Probably.
A rollicking look back at when I was young and single and on the town and contending with the search for love and meaning — PROS: 1) it worked for Carrie Bradshaw 2) Sex! Booze! DC intrigue? CONS: 1) the closest to “rollicking” I have is that time I cut off a boyfriend’s skin tag. I can’t even promise there was booze involved.
Gardening update – I am Ceres. I am Gaia. My dinnerplate dahlias would accommodate one huge-ass dinner. My carrots are stunted but delicious. My tomatoes are massive and juicy. That was not a euphemism.
Gardening podcast – I do think I’ll make this happen someday, but [refers back to coping mechanisms].
A compendium of all the masculinity coverage I’ve ever done – To be honest, this is also probably coming (and will help me solidify a book idea, God willing).
What it’s like to have covered a shooting – Felt somehow simultaneously self-indulgent and also self-exploitative.
Should you go to journalism school? – I lost interest after one-and-a-half sentences.
Why I can’t get off Twitter – I’m lazy.
A retelling of election year 2024 in rhyming poetry – Fun but pointless.
A retelling of the last Trump rally I went to, in rhyming poetry – Getting warmer.
A retelling of that time I cut off a boyfriend’s skin tag, in rhyming poetry – Dingdingding we have a winner.
LINKS
Trying to mobilize young Black and brown men — I went to a youth basketball event in Philadelphia where a nonprofit was registering young men of color. Come for the great audio of shoes squeaking on hardwood floors. Stay for eyebrow-raising quotes: “Them [candidates] going on debates and talking about foreign policies and stuff like that or women's rights - no disrespect to the women or anything like that. But, like, the youth don't really give a [expletive] about that. Excuse my language.”
Another apparent Trump assassination attempt — In which I go on Morning Edition and talk about terrifying times.
An overview: the DNC vs. RNC versions of masculinity — Me doing what I do best (getting on my gender-in-politics soapbox), this time while talking to the lovely Ms. Ayesha Rascoe.
Plus a handful of NPR Politics Podcast episodes — …which you can find in your podcast feed.
YOUR OLD-INTERNET JOY OF THE WEEK: Possibly the funniest clip from 30 Rock. To this day, I often think “you take your reward” every time I sip a cocktail.