the ocean

My favorite source for cutting-edge technological news, Us Weekly, has informed me that artificial intelligence is going to be huge, at least insofar as it can be used to create “bikini body” deepfakes that displease Jennifer Aniston (who, sources assure me, is still going to die alone). So even though I remain firmly convinced that the internet is a fad and we will all return to the use of illuminated manuscripts painstakingly created by monks who are ultimately driven mad by their efforts, I decided to enlist ChatGPT’s help for this year’s holiday greeting. This did not go well. My initial prompt returned only highly generic references to “cherished moments with loved ones” and “success, health, and happiness,” which have already been optioned for a Hallmark movie to star Jodie Sweetin as a maker of bespoke mousepads who falls for the single father who plays Joseph in the town Nativity but fail to meet my rigorous standards of sassiness. When I asked it to make it funnier, it added a joke about a Wi-Fi router. Just for kicks, I asked it to do it in the style of Virginia Woolf; the result was honestly pretty credible, but that only made me want to put on a fake nose and drown myself. Thus, like the sisters of the Eurythmics and Aretha Franklin “classic,” I am doing it for myself.

The holidays are nice. I realize this is a pretty spicy take, but I genuinely believe it. In a world where people fight over everything from Oxford commas to the ethnicity of cartoon characters, it’s pleasant to have a season where people generally bring the temperature down a little bit (if not literally; people who put their thermostats on 65 and offer you a cardigan can die in fires). Regardless of age, race, or creed, we can all come together to express concern about Mariah Carey’s mental health as she performs “All I Want for Christmas is You” for the 9027^th time. CEOs and secretaries alike can find joy in watching the junior analyst who legitimately never shuts up about crypto get what appears to be a lightly-used talking toilet paper spindle in the office gift exchange. Conservatives and liberals alike can probably agree that The Nutcracker is really pretty creepy if you think about it, and RFK Jr. just wants to retrieve the Mouse King’s corpse and dump it in Central Park. Yes, we are all still secretly judging each other on the inside, but there’s something to be said for at least pretending to be nice for a while. Just ask Katherine Heigl.

And although Ian and I never did make it to Shondaland this year (transitions!), we did have some other interesting journeys. I went to London for work, where I considered using a night off to find out who is still seeing Phantom some three decades in, but instead got drunk and housed some Five Guys hot dogs. (Cultural.) We vacationed in Mexico City and were delighted to discover that we did not immediately burst into flames upon entering the shrine to Our Lady of Guadalupe. We also visited Montreal, which was lovely aside from the roughly fourteen hours we were trapped on a malfunctioning train to Quebec City watching Canada’s bougiest professionals go Lord of the Flies over the rationing of microwave pizza slices. (I want Diane Lane to play me in the movie.) There was movement on the home front as well, as I transitioned my white collar practice over to Shook, Hardy & Bacon LLP, where I am accepting referrals as well as recommendations for good Spanish restaurants and home contractors who are unlikely to murder you in your sleep.

So that was 2024, to the extent it can be crammed into half a page. I’ll leave more detailed reporting to people who were not raised with MTV and therefore have attention spans, but no real appreciation of Madonna. Happy holidays and best wishes for a great 2025!

I'm still here! It's been a crazy few weeks. I had to go to DC for work, where I did everything from taking people's coats and getting them nametags to chatting up state Attorneys General (hooray for weird plurals!) over veal I sincerely did not want to eat. Perhaps the most notable part of the experience was that hotels in DC were for some reasons thousands of dollars per night, which makes sense, because spending several days in DC is exactly as valuable as owning an economy car. It was also kind of nice that DC was about 30 degrees warmer than Chicago over this period, though I did have to come back eventually, and was absolutely not equipped with the coatage for that.

I've also been rehearsing extensively for my amateur theatrical for lawyers. Objectively it is insane that I spend this much time on something I will never be compensated for (and indeed even spend money on, as RFK Jr. costumes aren't free), but it does keep me off the streets. This year has a Back to the Future theme, I guess because we just found out that movie exists? Also, fart jokes. So if you happen to be in Chicago January 10-11 and want to spend $50 on something, let me know. Or just buy eggs; I hear they are killer expensive in Joe Biden's America.