1.
On the way to the airport, my Uber driver was simultaneously performing and describing his favorite hobby. Apparently his best friend missed the memo that you had to pay back money charged to your credit card, and for this sin he was to be ritually chastised in front of strangers. After dropping me off, the driver was supposed to pick his daughter up from daycare. He lamented that this trip wouldn’t get him any closer to paying off his hospital bill. “I have the best flu remedy,” he insisted. “You just heat up a pot of water and suck in the steam. It works every time.”
On my first flight, my seatmate decided that the best use of his fleeting few moments between clipping his seatbelt and dozing off was to crack open a can of Fruit Splash Cherry Ginger Ale. For the next hour and half I watched his hand perform an involuntary balancing act. Shockingly he made it almost the entire flight, letting out a single controlled spill at his feet during the landing. Standing up, he rubbed it in with his shoes as if to make it go away and revealed the text on the back of his vest: Cleaning Crew.
During my layover I saw people getting visibly upset at the discovery that the Dunkin’ Donuts self-serve kiosk was broken, i.e. that they would have to talk to somebody to take their order. One of those people was my dad. When it was our turn I tried to be extra polite to the guy, putting on my best how-do-you-do-comrade voice and trying for novel observations about today’s donut selections. He did not seem to care.
2.
A flight across the American West tends to provoke one to think about how goddamn big everything is out there. It’s as if nature started to phone it in and turned her brush size way up. Nevada, home to both the McFarthest spot in the contiguous US and the “Loneliest Road in America,” is an especially strange critter. If you’ve performed the stoic ritual of driving through the state, the view from above might leave you questioning if you were ever really there in the first place.
A keen eye, however, will spot some curiosities. My personal favorite is what looks like a trio of big ass salt lamps just south of Las Vegas. These are some of the newest entries into Nevada’s storied history as a proving ground for weird and massive projects. Basically, before it was clear that photovoltaics (directly converting light into energy, i.e. solar panels) was the shit, other ideas for harnessing the power of the sun included setting up a giant array of mirrors to reflect as much light as possible into a central tower. This tower would generate energy the old-fashioned way—boiling water.
Unfortunately, projects like Ivanpah Solar Power Facility proved to be massive headaches for everyone involved. As they were coming online, solar panels improved way quicker than expected and thus their energy costs got relatively much lower. Most of these old-style solar projects are at best limping along, and Ivanpah is slated to close in 2026. They look badass, though. Photos don’t do justice to how bright they shine, even from 40,000 feet in the air.
3.
So the thing about Los Angeles, besides the fact that everyone purports to know the thing about Los Angeles, is that it’s as if someone tossed a really cool city into a food processor and then proceeded to accidentally scatter the pieces across a land area ten times larger than intended. This now manifests in all sorts of strange ways, like the 405 constantly showing up in song lyrics or the city government having to release an instructional video showing you how to do the 1.2 mile walk from Dodger Stadium to the nearest metro stop.
On this particular trip I found myself at an Outdoor Home Hibachi Experience, discovering that a two-and-a-half-month-old relative was about to enter STEM daycare. This was to shore up her chances of testing into the science academy at five. Here I also realized that I was—am—terrified of babies. Despite their eyes darting around in confusion, not knowing jack about the nitrogen cycle nor the double slit experiment, they always look like they’re hiding something. Maybe they know a couple things that us grown-ups have forgotten. And maybe the optimists in our heads tell us that having a kid might bring us a little closer to rediscovering them.
Death, or even the scent of it, does funny things to people. For example: around the right dinner table, with the right blood alcohol concentration, it might shake loose a few of those inhibitions which you never liked very much in the first place. It invites you to find delightful new meanings in gravel sidewalks and taco stands. Depending on the day, it might make traffic more or less annoying.
Waiting for my flight back in Los Angeles International Airport, I poked my eggs and wondered when the grief was supposed to set in. I was distracted by a television that simulated the endless scroll. It was showing vertical video brainrot overlaid on top of a cartoon phone, with a swipe effect transitioning the videos before they finished. This television was located inside of a food hall called “Farmers Market” which sold mostly prepackaged food.
I came home and the furniture had been rearranged. Slowly but surely, the frisson bled out and was replaced by thoughts of sightlines and color coordination.