It’s been a bittersweet week, filled with loss and birth and joy and sorrow. Who knew December Week 3 had it in her. And still, we’re nearing the end of a year and the beginning of a new one. The twinkle lights are up and we’re cold and we’re eating cookies. We’re gearing up on a lot of year-end lists, all of which I will read top to bottom while wondering did everyone see Maestro? Were we all supposed to see Maestro? I figured I should try to do something grand, all-summarizing, maybe even hopeful? But that sounds way too hard, so here’s what we’ll do instead. If you want, you can send me your smallest passions. Bright milliseconds of your day. Fleeting feelings. A miniature chocolate chip you ate on the brink of despair. A decent clementine. The breeze on May 2. Norman Lear died last week at 101 and this quote of his has been going around…
“Life is made up of small pleasures. Happiness is made up of those tiny successes. The big ones come too infrequently. And if you don't collect all these tiny successes, the big ones don't really mean anything.”
The man sold like 97 TV shows and he’s suggesting we embrace the micro moments, so he must’ve known something. Send me your smallest passions, and I’ll compile them in a big list I’ll send out at the end of the year.
Passions this week include: finding a parking space, thumbprint cookies, and sweatpants.
I rented a car in Los Angeles, and so far, I’ve spent all my time parking it. Almost no driving whatsoever. I found a non-parallel parking spot the other morning and said out loud “THANK YOU GOD”. I’m not religious nor do I think about the existence of a higher power all that often. But the gratitude towards the lord just flowed out of me. I guess that’s California!
My mom is from Taylorville, Illinois and she recently went back there for a quick trip. There’s a bakery there that makes something called thumbprint cookies. The idea is someone sticks their CLEAN thumb into a small mound of dough, and then fills that indent with wet icing. It’s a small cookie, roughly the size of a quarter, and it’s very soft and very sweet. On the consuming side, it’s the same motion as eating a baby carrot, except instead of a baby carrot, it’s good.
I love sweatpants. I know I sound like I’m trapped in the year 2020. But they are awesome and warm and when I wear them, I kinda feel like I look like a jock. Just a jock on his cheat day, eating carbs in his sweatpants. He calls them joggers. He can deadlift 140 and he’s also an amazing singer, but nobody knows that part of him, he keeps it secret.
And now some from the readers…
Shelby: “My current passion is driving my husband to appointments and camping out in the waiting room with a coffee and good book while he does his thing. I get to people watch, help him out, get a little treat, and have some forced downtime all at once!”
Alison: “I’m passionate about cornichons — the tiny, tart cocktail pickles that are French I guess? Eating them makes me feel cool and a little dangerous — like a charcuterie cigarette.”
Nathan: “I love Baywatch! Whenever I turn on my tv, it automatically goes to this channel called “Baywatch TV” where they only play Baywatch 24/7 with no commercials. I always watch for like 10 minutes when before I watch what I was intending to or play video games. I don’t know a single character’s name or any plot points but I love their wacky adventures and rockin’ bods! Baywatch rules!”
I mean, the gorgeous people are saving lives, how could you change the channel?
-Jo