Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of April 18, 2021
All those kids who identified as hippies in high school in the ’90s likely never had a revolutionary thought of their own. The most dangerous thing they did was listen to a Dave Matthews tape while speeding in their Jeep Cherokees.
On Book Covers and Online Summaries: The Bumper Stickers That Define Us
The next time I'm in traffic, I start to notice my micro-complaining at various bad drivers and notice a trend. No labels, no specifics in the pejorative. In plain, if a Prius cuts me off, my mind says "Fucking NPR." Which is only ironic in that I drive a Prius and used to work for... If a car that takes too long to turn left in front of me has a BlackHawks sticker, it's "Goddamn Blackhawk fuckwad!" No label or obvious marker? It's just "Fucking asshole!" and we move on.
I'm pretty sure this isn't a specific phenomenon esoteric to me.
The stomach tightens and sinks.
The heart and lungs follow.
It’s a confounding reaction to a receipt of affection.
It’s familiar, and, therefore, oddly comforting.
But familiarity can be a curse.
A cursed reminder of what once went wrong when you were just trying to do things right this time.
This time it’ll be different, you say.
Why? You’re different, but what are you doing differently?