kindness @ 30,000 feet 🙏 commas ⌨️trolling the mayor's race 🗳 cryptic football 🏈
Flying brings mixed feelings for me. On the one hand, I love to travel, I enjoy the people-watching opportunities that airports afford, and I often feel a sense of awe when I look down at the vastness of our planet from a vantage point of thirty thousand feet. On the other hand, I dislike being crammed into a ridiculously small space on the flying metal tubes that crisscross the skies, the number of people who are actually worth watching is frequently eclipsed by the number of people I find annoying, and no matter how fast we fly, the flight always seems to take too damn long.
Not that I thought much about my love-hate relationship with flying on our flight back from Florida. I was too busy reading the second volume in Robert Caro’s book on LBJ and thinking about the profound irony of a man who stole a Senate seat in 1948, then less than two decades later, led the legislative charge for voting rights—and won. On the one hand, LBJ was an anti-democratic goon, but on other hand he was a champion to the disenfranchised. And on both hands, history has a wicked sense of humor.
Of course, it’s not all lofty shit when I fly. After two hours of reading and thinking about our nation’s complicated history, I decided to take a break to watch some HGTV. I don’t know why, but time really flies when I watch Christina and Tarek bungle and bicker their way through home flipping in Southern California. Maybe it’s magic, or maybe I just dig train wrecks.
I could’ve watched HGTV for the rest of the flight without moving. But every thirty minutes, the woman in the window seat asked me to get up so she could use the bathroom.
The first time she asked, I thought nothing of it. The second time she asked, I thought about her beverage order—a ginger ale, no ice—and wondered if flying upset her stomach. The third time she asked, I thought her timing could’ve been better because they were about to reveal a totally fictitious number that represented the “profit” Christina and Tarek had made on the flip. The forth time she asked, I thought something judgmental, but since it was kind of a dick thought, I kept it to myself. The fifth and final time she asked, there was a minor traffic jam in the aisle, and I thought she might have to wait, but Christina popped up from her seat and unfucked the situation.
When we landed, I didn’t give the bathroom breaks any thought at all. But the woman in the window seat tapped me on the shoulder and said, “thank you for being so understanding.”
“Of course,” I said. “No problem.”
“No, thank you. You were both very kind, and I really appreciate that.”
Suddenly, I felt guilty for judging her. But then I thought about LBJ. He was a gigantic asshole, but he also delivered human dignity at scale. I’m an asshole on a much smaller scale (I hope!), but I managed to deliver some human dignity to the stranger sitting next to me. Turns out, a little kindness goes a long way—at least from 🛫Tampa ➡️LAX🛬.
Trolling Rick Caruso
As soon as we returned from Florida, I got hit with a wave of Rick Caruso outreach.
The first wave came in the form of a burly man carrying a clipboard. He knocked on our door, but I was jet-lagged and in no mood to hear about how a leopard named Rick Caruso had changed his spots just in time to file his paperwork for the Los Angeles mayor’s race. Also, leopards don’t change their spots.
“Hard pass,” I told the Caruso canvasser, before I slammed the door in his face.
The next day, another Caruso canvasser knocked on our door. This time I wasn’t jet-lagged, but I was thinking about what the woman in the window seat said to me.
“I’m voting for Karen Bass,” I told the canvasser as soon as I opened the door. “Stay safe out there, have fun, and remember to hydrate and use sunscreen.”
I closed the door gently, and for a moment, I felt good about being so good. But then I remembered that Rick Caruso sucks. I began to worry that treating Caruso canvassers with kindness might be contributing to the problem. I vowed to do better (I mean worse).
The third outreach wave via text. Someone from the Caruso campaign named Josh asked me if I was interested in attending a Caruso event in the West Valley. I wasn’t interested in attending, but I was interested in trolling, so I wrote back asking if there would be snacks.
“No,” Josh wrote.
“What about beverages?” I replied.
“No drinks!” Josh shot back.
I sighed. The Caruso people seemed stingy, which might explain why I was unable to sell them my vote. But Josh’s brief responses made it difficult to troll the Caruso campaign, and in my book that was a problem.
What to do, what to do?
“Will there be any celebs there?” I texted Josh. “Snoop Dogg? Kim Kardashian? Gwyneth Paltrow? Snacks and beverages are the way to my heart, but if I’m being honest, Josh, I’m also a star-fucker. Maybe Wolfgang Puck can give me a buzz? That’ll lock in my vote. I mean, it’d be better if Wolfgang made snacks, because the Karen Bass team has snacks, but they don’t have Wolfgang. What do you say? Do we have a deal, Josh?”
Josh didn’t write back, but I’m not worried because there’s still more than a week to go until the election.
Comment of the week!
While we were in Florida, I used the opportunity to gather string for a piece about the Florida Man meme. You can read that story here.
The best comment on that piece goes to Alex Dobrenko, who combined flattery, which will get you everywhere, with a good television show recommendation.
Alex writes Both Are True, a newsletter that’s hard to explain, but easy to love.
Comma for Comedy
Back in my legal eagle days, commas gave me nightmares. Insert one tiny comma, and you can change the entire meaning of a document. With the stroke of a pen (or a key), a strategically-placed comma can be used to swindle someone out of millions dollars, deny someone else their human rights, and lend an anti-democratic leader the cudgel they need to go full-autocrat. Commas are dangerous, especially in the hands of good lawyers working in service of bad ideas.
But commas can also be funny. They are an essential tool in the humorist’s toolbox. That’s why I love this submission from Lyle McKeany on behalf of his stepdaughter, who deployed a single comma to turn a mundane political sign into a joke.
Lyle’s stepdaughter doesn’t have a newsletter, but Lyle does. It’s called Just Enough to Get Me in Trouble, and it’s excellent. Check it out here.
Christina’s advice for the Raiders
The Raiders kicked some ass last week, beating the Houston Texans 38-20. Christina’s advice and fandom made the difference, obviously. So, I asked her to offer the silver & black some wise words for this week’s game against the New Orleans Saints.
“Get that voodoo under control,” Christina said.
“What does that even mean?” I asked.
“The Raiders know what it means,” she said.
“Care to elaborate?”
“No.”
Cryptic words from Christina. But if the Raiders can get that “voodoo under control,” they’ll win, I guess. Meantime, I suggest that smart Situation Normal readers bet everything they own—checking account, savings, retirement, cash advance on your credit cards, stocks, crypto, car, home, etc.—on the Saints to lose.
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Stick around and chat!
You know the drill. I’ve got questions, you may or may not have answers.
How do you pass the time on a flight? Share your tips!
Has a strategically-placed comma ever screwed you out of your rights or money?
Have robocalls, endless campaign mailers, hysterical emails, and relentless television ads made your life a living hell? If not, what’s your secret, and can you spare some serenity?
Why do so many celebrities, who don’t even live in the city of LA, want to pick our next mayor?
Time to turn the tables. Situation Normal readers, which celebrity should be the next mayor of Los Angeles?
Until Sunday, when I’ll have a special announcement about what’s in store for Situation Normal in November!
The 2nd amendment has several strategically placed commas...
You gotta run for mayor now you know that right???
also dude ahhhh thank you for the shout out!!! "a newsletter that’s hard to explain, but easy to love." might just become the new tagline for Both Are True