Editor’s note: this was originally posted via email on Sunday, September 8. If you’re sad that was so long ago, you should sign up to get these in your inbox when they’re fresh.

Okay, first, I hope you’re proud of yourself. Because of you, I’ve now done this five times in a row, which it puts it well beyond the realm of consistency anyone who’s been following my life for any amount of time might have predicted for this project (not counting the two weeks I was on vacation after issue #1, which obviously one would not count, and anyway the first one was sort of a beta test and I had to decide whether it felt as good as I thought it might, and the internet was spotty, and plus there was wine, and okay fine, you got me, I’ve now done this 4 times in a row.) …


Editor’s note: this was originally posted via email on Monday, September 2. If you’re sad that was so long ago, you should sign up to get these in your inbox when they’re fresh.

Today is Monday, but it’s a holiday, so it counts as a Sunday. I hope your Labor Day weekend was startlingly awesome.

Feedback on this newsletter is now beginning to outpace worthless small talk as the primary interaction I have with people outside of work, which is a terrific change of pace and makes me look forward even more to writing it.

A common refrain I’ve heard is that while you very much enjoy reading the newsletter, you haven’t yet found the time to click through and read or watch or listen to any of the links I’ve included. …


On Saturday, my mother turned 65. As is typical for 65-year-old women, she wanted to go sky diving. So we spent the weekend with her in a rented house on the beach south of Galveston. And she jumped out of a perfectly good airplane, as they say.

Despite clouds and occasional rain, we spent quite a few hours on the beach, which felt great. Even after a couple of late nights, a little bit too much beer, and way too many cinnamon rolls, I feel quite recharged. Which got me wondering why beach time is so enjoyable.

The first two things that jump to my mind when I think about a good day on the beach are being so hot I want to jump in the ocean, and the salty, humid air. But if overbearing heat and humidity were all it took to make a person feel great, then every day anywhere in south Texas between April and November would be paradise. Which it isn’t. …

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