Did I eat a lot yesterday? Yes. Should I have picked a different day-after to have my blood work done? Sure, but that’s beside the point. Despite the needling ahead this morning, it’s been a good week full of turkey, work, rest, and catching up. Here are the good bits I skimmed off the top.
On Wednesday, my husband drove me up to Austin to spend the day at the Harry Ransom Center at the University of Texas. The visit was an extra credit project to help make up for the aforementioned and devastating C I received on a paper in World Lit. Even though it was a form of self-flagellation on my part, it ended up being a day well spent. Let me fill you in on the WOW factor if you haven't been there before. This enchanting place is free and open to all, where you can view Charlotte Brontë's childhood writings, Jack Kerouac's notebook documenting his drafting of On the Road, and Edgar Allan Poe's desk. A dozen Nobel Laureates, including Kazuo Ishiguro, Samuel Beckett, Gabriel García Márquez, Doris Lessing, and Isaac Bashevis Singer, have their archives here. I spent the morning and most of the afternoon handling letters from Virginia Woolf, reading manuscripts of T.S. Eliot and Jorge Luis Borges, and learning everything you could ever want to know or look up about Ishiguro. I don’t want to spill hyperbole by saying it was a magical day, but knowing that Woolf signed letters to her beloved niece “Virginia Witcherina” feels like it would make anyone’s day. This place is a gift that the state of Texas should feel proud of despite some of our more political failings. It’s a must-visit. (If you are interested, my tongue-in-cheek, extra credit draft is viewable here.)
My TBR list is full of reading towards my degree, but I am attempting to squeeze in some just-for-me books. First on the list is High and Rising: A Book About De La Soul. Much like the author Marcus Moore, De La Soul was part of the musical landscape of my youth. He recently talked about it on NPR: “They didn't portray themselves as gangsters like N.W.A or smooth-talking ladies' men like Big Daddy Kane or LL Cool J. Instead, De La appealed to the Black alternative, to those who liked rap but also liked jazz and punk and maybe owned a skateboard or played an instrument in the school band. They spoke to those who didn't conform to what Black was supposed to be.” Though the surviving band members are tweaked about its publication, I’m going to receive it as what it is: a fan love letter to a band that helped inform their life.
One of my favorite recent streaming shows is Somebody Somewhere. Many of the characters drive my husband nuts, but I find the whole thing delightfully sweet. The idea that anyone, anywhere, can create a family all their own from friendship—no matter how lost or broken they might be—is a real blessing. There is a kindness in the writing that makes me feel good about the world right now. That sort of gentleness with each other is what will keep us all evolving. Watch it and smile.
I have rediscovered the humorist John Hodgman, who I used to follow religiously when I lived in New York but have only recently begun reading here on Substack. His post-election piece was one of my favorites. Have a read.
As I reach the end of the semester, my modus operandi is feeling good. I know I am lucky even to have that as an option, and it is not something I take lightly or for granted. While some of my friends are working to shore up their marriages legally and others are fearing for family in the Middle East, I know I exist in a rarefied place where finding happiness is a gift not everyone gets. I also know that it probably won’t always be that way. Life will get in the way eventually, so I must enjoy this while it lasts.
Quote of the week?
“Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.”
— Naomi Shihab Nye, from her poem Kindness
‘Til Tuesday kids.
Burgin
(I’m finishing college at 50+, follow along and read my story here.)