the ocean

I had my 30 year class reunion this weekend. I really enjoyed it, despite the fact that it was 90 degrees and humid. It was, in fact, a very '90s affair and even included a Blues Traveler concert, since they just happened to be in Quincy and playing a venue right next to the bar where the reunion was. And no, I cannot name any more Blues Traveler songs than you can. But it was not a test, other than of my ability to recognize people I haven't necessarily seen for thirty years. The results there were decidedly mixed.

There were, of course, some awkward moments. As it turned out, I was not terribly well informed when it came to the deaths of people's relatives, and I did find myself saying "yeah, livers are really important" to someone when hearing about their recent health journey. A pleasant conversation with one of my former teachers somehow turned into me reprising the content of a junior year term paper, and I learned that one of my classmates had for some reason been gifted a framed poem about AIDS purchased at a garage sale for his graduation. Perhaps not coincidentally, well drinks were $3.

Unfortunately, I had work obligations both Friday and tomorrow, so we had to be in and out of Quincy pretty quickly, and barely got to sample the various fried delights the region offers. We'll save it for the 40 year, I suppose.

In the department of climate change being fake news, the past several days have seen the city of Chicago (and many other places in the US, I hear) blanketed in smoke from wildfires in Canada. This is totally normal and nothing to worry about, except I can't remember it ever having happened until a few years ago and the air quality index Thursday literally labeled our air "Hazardous." Like, they were cancelling all outdoor events for it. And one of my coworkers had to pay $90 for a car to take her a mile from our office to our firm dinner because so many people were opting not to walk in the open air. Amazing when multiple ways our society is falling apart manage to coincide like that. 

As you may have noticed, I am hardly your source for tips on the hottest new television. What I am great at, though, is having opinions about television that everyone else watched months or years ago.

Most notably, we are now fully up to date on Summer House, just in time for Scamanda. (I think that's what people settled on calling it?) I'm actually a little sad to be current as the journey was such a delight for us, but it is nice to be part of the current cultural conversation. Of course Amanda is the worst, but let's not forget that Kyle is also the worst. Two things can be true. Oh, and West has always been the worst, so three things can be true. Ciara is everything. I loved her from day one but it was the elaborate party costumes that really sealed the deal for me. Though I feel confident there's some Bravo intern behind that shit. Lindsey is genuinely a crazy person and yet somehow I am drawn to her? It's not an Oedipal thing.

We also finished season four of Hacks, so welcome to last year? I had kind of thought we quit that one because I found the constant highs and lows in the central relationship exhausting, but then there was so much buzz about the final season that we decided to give it a go and, well, I find the constant highs and lows in the central relationship exhausting. Good acting, fine writing, all of that, but I just need some peace. We will finish out the series, no doubt, but after a pause.

And now we're doing the third season of The White Lotus. That one I put off because I was sort of rejecting the gaybaiting, but I'm enjoying it more than I thought I would. (Perhaps I've been baited?) Carrie Coon has been good in everything I've ever seen her in, even though half the time I didn't even realize it was her I was seeing in it, ever the chameleon. I also sort of heart Aimee Lou Wood's character, filling the wackiness void left by Jennifer Coolidge's absence. I could do without Jason Isaacs' penis. 

Anyway, good for me that I'm watching television? I'm also reading a lot, but I won't burden you with that (yet).

It's sort of an odd Fourth of July weekend here in Chicago, alternating between extreme heat and thunderstorms in a way that makes it challenging to plan much of anything. We are heading over to a friend's house shortly with the stated intent of hanging out on their roof deck, but it could well turn into huddling in their basement to avoid advancing gale force winds. (Or a peasant revolt, which I would fully support.) Many recent years we've had family over for a holiday barbecue, but this year they have forsaken us for the glitz and glamor of Buffalo, so there shall be no hot dogs. I briefly considered buying potato salad and shame eating it all by myself, but that's so 2020.