Every year, whenever the process of trying to find the perfect holiday gift for *everyone* at the exact same time hits its crescendo, I tell myself: One of these years, I’m just gonna do what Jeff Harris does. 

Every December for about a decade now, a Priority Mail Flat Rate box has arrived at my house, weighing approximately four and a half pounds. I open it, and if I don’t already have some softened butter, I grab a stick out of the refrigerator and command it to soften as fast as it can. 

Inside the box are two loaves of Harris Family Cranberry Bread, which stretch the definition of “bread” to the furthest extent of the laws of nature, and might even qualify as “cake,” depending on context or audience. Anyway: You are not making a BLT out of two slices of Harris Family Cranberry Bread. 

You just follow the directions on the label, which say: SLICE THICK > TOAST > BUTTER > REVEL

One loaf is approximately 10 slices of cranberry bread. In my house, since Hilary is much more of a disciplined/sensible eater than I am, I consume approximately 80 to 90 percent of our cranberry bread each holiday season. I am not at all mad or sad about this, and I would like to think everyone who is bestowed a loaf or two of Harris Family Cranberry Bread during the holidays appreciates it as much as I do. 

Jeff has been making cranberry bread since 2009—or, rather, 2009 is when he got serious about it, shipping loaves of it to family and friends. In peak years, he shipped about 80 loaves of cranberry bread, and baked another 70 or 80 loaves for friends and family in his hometown of Cincinnati, which added up to about 160 loaves total, baked four at a time for 50 to 60 minutes at 350 degrees. 

He’s dialed back production after back surgery a few years ago, so I am even more grateful when our box shows up. Especially because it’s always during the time when I start feeling the pressure to buy something for everyone in my family (even in a family that keeps the holiday gift-giving pretty minimal). 

I’m over here with 50 tabs open and a Note on my phone with a list of possible gift ideas for each person, trying to once again nail it, or at least not buy someone something that will leave them thinking, “Huh, that’s who you think I am?” Will they think this sweater is ugly, will they put this record on the turntable more than once ever, will they read past page 50 of this book, or should I just admit defeat and buy them a gift card? Argh. 

Gluten allergies and intolerances aside, the cranberry bread (or any mailable baked good, really) seems so … smart. No returns or exchanges, no gift receipts, no one having to hang a shirt in a closet for three years telling themselves they need to wear it more often/ever because someone who loves them bought it for them and their heart was in the right place. You just bake a shitton of delicious bread/cake, pack it up, and after it reaches its destination, it creates joy in all who are graced by its presence. 

And if it doesn’t create joy for its recipients, it’s at least biodegradable or compostable. Although if a retired man from Cincinnati is sending you loaves of cranberry bread every December and you’re not eating them, please contact me. I know someone who can get rid of them. 

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If you are interested in the exact recipe for Harris Family Cranberry Bread, Jeff generously shared a PDF of it, and you can download it here. 

I was not prepared to learn so much about the human body when I started watching this new-to-me video about why kids don’t get cold as easily as adults do. But if you have five minutes to watch this, prepare to be armed with several pieces of information that will make you sound really smart. (video)

I linked to this series in December 2024, and totally forgot about it until the emails for this year’s series started popping up in my inbox again this December. There are still 12 days of it left, each one an essay on the topic “I thought about that a lot,” written anonymously and published once a day. Here’s a bit from the December 9 essay, “In 2025, I thought a lot about my body in numbers”: “What I’ve learnt is that I didn’t need extraordinary willpower. Just the steady motivation of wanting to feel better, and the awareness of what was at stake if I didn’t.”

I’ve loved having Janji as a newsletter sponsor in 2025, and really enjoyed trying out different pieces of gear as the seasons change, and my routine changes. Recently, I added in some strength training a couple times a week at the gym near our house, and I am happy to report that I have not injured myself yet (probably due to my very cautious approach to increasing weight/resistance). And of course I run to the gym, and run home. I’ve been wearing the Janji Circa Daily Tee, which is a blend of cotton, polyester, modal, and spandex, that I’ve worn for running, casual wear, and now to do barbell squats. The short-sleeve versions are pretty much sold out (so I’m not wrong!) but several colors are still available in the women’s long-sleeve version and the men’s long-sleeve version.

I am a huge fan of Anne Lamott’s “Bird by Bird,” one of my favorite books about how to write, and I saw this note by her pop up on Substack, read the first line and thought, “Fuckin Anne Lamott. Why is she always so right?”

This is probably more for people who have read a book to an infant or toddler in the recent past, but I was laughing out loud at Jae Towle Vieira’s writing in this Defector piece, “Here Is What Reading To My Child Has Done To My Brain,” commenting on the slight and not-so-slight absurdities in children’s books. Such as: “Before I had a kid, I questioned the need for the abundance of Wheels on the Bus variations. Now I understand that there is no upper limit to the ideal amount of things that could happen in threes on buses. All day long, all through the town—a la Speed, it doesn’t matter what we’re doing as long as the bus keeps going.” [GIFT LINK]

Like every other social media platform, Reddit often feeds me stuff I would have been better off not seeing, but I feel the most in-control of my feed there, so I keep going back, and often the local Missoula subreddit provides me with actual useful information (new restaurant/power outage/warning about something), or just a laugh—like when someone posted a photo of this tree that’s in one of our local nature areas and asked if it had a name. And now of course every time I go for a walk there, I’ll say, “There’s ol’ Don Quattro.”

We are very close to announcing the dates and location for my 2026 Freeflow Institute writing + trail running workshop, so my friend/Freeflow Institute founder Chandra Brown having been talking a lot of logistics lately, and somehow she did not mention this story she wrote for The Guardian about what happened to the body of a 40-ton whale that washed up on a beach in Anchorage in November 2024, and the guy who was determined to get it off the beach and into a museum. (and yes, the exploding whale of Florence, Oregon is mentioned in the story)

This essay is a few months old, but I found it after reading another piece the author published recently, and the headline “The slow death of firsthand experience” pulled me in. It gave me a lot to think about, and I realized I have wondered something similar, but as it relates to online writing, i.e. how much online writing is just reacting to or interpreting things or thinking about things, vs. telling about an actual experience (or even just making an actual real-world, non-screen-time experience part of an essay about something).

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Listen on Apple Podcasts | Listen on Spotify | Listen/Watch on YouTube

For My Favorite Things, I’m interviewing people about the books, movies, music, art, and other creative works that have helped shape their lives. My guest for Episode 5 is Anya Miller Berg, brand creative director at Mountain Hardwear, climber, mountain biker, former architect, and cat mom. Anya’s favorite things are:

1. Teenagers in Their Bedrooms by Adrienne Salinger

Publisher’s Page | Bookshop | Amazon

2. Bobo Choses

3. Les Others Magazine

4. Barking at the Knot – Seamus Foster

5. (large scale art):

• Echoes of the Infinite by Alex Proba
• Souvenir by Kathleen Ryan
• The Red Popsicle by Catherine Mayer

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As 2025 winds down, I’ve been revisiting all my Friday Inspiration newsletters from the year and picking out my favorite links from each of them. I was going to do one “best of 2025” post at the end of the year, but there was a lot of good stuff, so this week’s Friday Inspiration is a collection of my favorites from the first half of the year, January through June 2025.

First things first, though: I convinced newsletter sponsor Precision Fuel & Hydration to put together a sample pack of my favorites from them, tried and true for me over the past year and a half. This link will give you 15% off the sample pack, which includes a box of 10 packets of PH 1000 electrolyte drink mix, 3 PF 90 gels, 3 PF 30 caffeine gels, and 4 PF 30 chews.

Onto the best of the first half of 2025 then:

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This is not exactly new, but WOW, building a scale model of the timeline of the history of the universe in the Mojave Desert—in a day. (video)

From a short but brilliant essay titled, “You might just have to be bored,” subtitled, “Or: How to fix an attention span”: “Not being bored is why you always feel busy, why you keep “not having time” to take a package to the post office or work on your novel. You do have time—you just spend it on your phone. By refusing to ever let your brain rest, you are choosing to watch other people’s lives through a screen at the expense of your own.” (January)

I have been thinking a lot about nostalgia lately, after reading about a study that showed we all basically think the best everything happened when we were approximately 10 years old. So of course I clicked on this piece, “Your brain is lying to you about ‘the good old days,’” and the science behind why we think things were better in the past. And it applies to how we think about progress, and improving society, but I think also, specifically this passage, how we remember things like mountaineering, endurance events, and all things “Type 2 Fun”: “Thanks to ‘selective memory,’ humans have a tendency to forget negative events from the past and reinforce positive memories. It’s one reason why our feelings and memories about the past can be so inaccurate — we literally forget the bad things and give the good things a nice, pleasant glow. The further back the memory goes, the stronger that tendency can be.” (January)

I found Robin Wilding’s Substack this week through her post about putting her senior dog down (which was wonderful but maybe not what everyone needs to read this week), and I clicked around a bit and found this gem she wrote last September, The 11 Traits of Utterly Unfuckwithable People. My favorite might be #5, They Treat Servers Nice. (February)

I assume that you, like me, have had no less than one thousand instances in your life in which you had a weird or awkward conversation/confrontation with someone, walked away, and spent the next few minutes/several hours thinking, “you know what I should have said to that asshole?” If my assumption is correct, I think you will find Michael Estrin’s latest quick story very satisfying (and also hilarious). (February)

I have been trying to put my finger on why algorithms just don’t work that well to introduce me to new music/books/videos/shows/whatever, and I think lots of people are having the same feeling. This Atlantic piece about the new book Mood Machine: The Rise of Spotify and the Costs of the Perfect Playlist, dives into a bit of it, but also captures what I think many of us have been feeling: “Like so many other products influenced by machine learning, Spotify’s playlists can’t generate something new—say, a wholly fresh and unheard sound—for its users. They instead offer the flash of recognition, rather than the mind-scrambling revelation that comes only when you hear something you’d never expected.” [GIFT LINK] (February)

I don’t know how I stumbled on Mike Monteiro’s (non-Substack) newsletter, in which he answers one question every issue. But this one, answering the question, “How do you decide which donut to get?” begins thusly: “First off, congratulations on your donut. Donuts are fucking amazing and everyone should have a donut. Some of you might be thinking about donuts and attaching the word “deserve” to it. Fuck that. Deserve has nothing to do with donuts. You want a donut. You should have a donut.” (March)

David Epstein’s book Range: Why Generalists Triumph in a Specialized World is one of my favorite reads of the past five years, maybe because it validates my tendency to try lots of things instead of just one, or maybe because it encourages us to go ahead and be real human beings with multiple interests—like he does in this recent piece, “Why Hobbies Are An Advantage, Not a Distraction.” (March)

I think there’s a pretty easy response you could have to people who say things like “empathy is a weakness,” and certainly there were probably many, but the phrasing of this one was my favorite. (April)

This is a Substack post about paper (and really, using paper and writing utensils to think), from a writer I’ve never read before encountering this piece, and it just made my week. Because, I don’t know, I love paper too? And wish I used it more than I use my laptop and iPad. The author writes in the intro, “Also, the world needs way more mundane blogging,” but I don’t think this is mundane, and it also reminds me of the best advice I give myself when I’m stuck trying to come up with something to write about: Go smaller. Stop trying to solve the world’s problems and just write about something small. (April)

Love this display at a college library: Is it Kendrick Lamar or Shakespeare? (Subtext here: Is Kendrick the Shakespeare of our time? Was Shakespeare the Kendrick of his time? If they met, would they get along?)(April)

If you have a) ever tried to move a photo within a Microsoft Word document and b) somehow not seen this yet, I believe you will feel quite validated, and probably also laugh at this seven-second masterpiece. (May)

I love finding good writing, and I think I kind of suck at describing why it’s good—like this essay by Niko Stratis, whose work I’ve mentioned before in this newsletter. Her essays are always fascinating, weaving together music, culture, and scenes from growing up in the Yukon and becoming a journeyman glazier, and discovering her gender identity. Anyway, her new book, The Dad Rock That Made Me A Woman, came out on Tuesday, and this week’s essay is one of my favorites I’ve read of hers, maybe partly because I also put songs on repeat for an hour sometimes. (May)

Trust me: Take 60 seconds, or 90 seconds (OK, maybe more like three to four minutes) and scroll through the photos created by the winners of the Milky Way Photographer of the Year Awards (via Kottke.org). (May)

I have mentioned before in this newsletter that I have been enjoying the live DJ mixes I often find on YouTube, but I think the production of this one might be my favorite yet: camcorder footage, a few different angles, a little bit of video editing, and a bunch of R&B tracks (and some live drumming). Plus the title is “the homies mixing R&B and chilling with a pineapple.” (May)

Years ago, I was climbing a multi-pitch route with a French friend who was pretty fluent in English, and we paused at a belay to eat a snack and drink some water. Simon pulled a small stuff sack from his pack and from the stuff sack a few food items, including the most battered energy bar I had ever seen. He held it up and said to me, “Theese ees my friend. He goes weeth me everywhere.” I of course understood exactly what he meant, as I, like every one, had the one bar that I kept bringing on hikes and climbs, but never eating, because I had better options. It was like an emergency ration that I kind of knew I would never eat unless I was on the verge of starvation. If you know what I mean, you will love artist Cy Whitling’s latest comic, “The Eternal Granola Bar.” (May)

I was clicking through Substack yesterday, wanting to find someone who wrote an actual story, a narrative of something that happened in real life. It wouldn’t have to be anything spectacular, just a story. And I found it. It was titled “I Agreed to Help Pick Up a Couch and Ended Up Participating in a Street Performance” and it made my day. If you read it, I am betting you will say to yourself, “Yes, I know or have met someone like Moonbeam.” (May)

Look, I am not saying everyone should drink five or more cups of coffee per day, but I’m also not saying people shouldn’t. Anne Kadet, whose Substack is a treasure, interviewed a handful people who drink prodigious amounts of coffee, and it made me feel both happy, less weird, and less alone. And also validated in my choice to make a 9-cup moka pot yesterday afternoon. (June)

I don’t know how I found the Why Cheap Art Manifesto this week, but something about the typeface and the style and the very simple message of it really hit home for me, and perhaps it will hit home for you too. If you are really into it, there’s a link at the bottom where you can purchase a print of it, which, at $20, I guess is technically cheap art, which is very meta, to support artists by buying a print of a manifesto about cheap art. But of course you can just read and enjoy it for free, too. (June)

If you have ever seen Christoph Niemann’s art and design work, you will probably not be surprised at how interesting and accessible this interactive piece he put together about artists and AI for the New York Times is—the first time I read it, I scrolled through it on my phone, which honestly worked just as well as viewing it on my laptop. It really covers some ground. Here’s a gift link to see it. (thanks, Fitz)(June)

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If my Friday Inspiration newsletters made your 2025 a tiny bit better, please consider keeping it going in 2026 by supporting my work through Patreon here.

This time of year, many of us are looking back on the previous year, or looking forward to the next year, or both. When I am mulling over ideas to write about in late December, I often catch myself thinking too big, trying to solve all the world’s problems with an essay. So this year, I thought I’d re-publish a very brief piece I wrote a few years ago, because I still think about it often. And it’s based on something my friend Tom said to me in 2012, which was almost 14 years ago, so he really nailed it (in my opinion). Here it is: 

About five years ago, my friend Tom told me what I thought was an insignificant thing: that he’d taken a ceramic mug to his office and had started using that for his morning coffee instead of a travel mug. He said it made him feel less rushed.

In the span of those five years, Tom’s little seed of an idea stuck with me, and gradually and almost subconsciously grew into a full-blown life philosophy. I too tried to start drinking out of ceramic mugs when possible. I minimized drinking coffee in a car, preferring to schedule a few minutes for drinking coffee somewhere stationary, whether it was my apartment or a coffee shop. Every coffee shop I visited, I specified “for here” to avoid being served coffee in a paper cup. I noticed at hotels and sometimes airport coffee shops in Europe, coffee was served in ceramic mugs, and how much I liked it compared to a hotel breakfast in the U.S., served on all disposable dishes and cups. (Obviously it’s also better for the planet if we’re not creating a piece of trash every time we drink a cup of coffee, but I’m talking about something else here.)

I wouldn’t have expected that concept to change my life in a big way, but now I look at to-go cups and travel mugs like the equivalent of drinking wine out of a glass vs. straight out of the bottle. Or maybe more accurately, sitting down to eat a sandwich at an actual table vs. wolfing down a drive-through meal while navigating in freeway traffic. I’ve learned to like my coffee like I like my conversations with good friends: not rushed.

But we all feel rushed, don’t we? We live in a world that seems to get faster and faster every month. And how do we deal with it? Most of us try to adapt and keep up with it all, without even thinking about it. We have eight different methods people can use to contact us and we have to check them every 15 minutes just in case we missed something. We eat lunch at our desks, and drink our coffee out of non-spill vessels, often in our cars. And nobody just sits and drinks coffee anymore, except this legendary Starbucks customer spotted in 2015:

Yes, it’s great that we’ve been able to make lots of things portable, including drinking coffee. But while the actual coffee is portable, the experience of slowing down and taking a minute to be present is not so much.

Maybe my friend Tom is onto something with his ceramic coffee mug, and he knows something most of us should admit: that rushing the things we love isn’t making us any happier—even if it is making us able to scroll through 12 to 15 more meters of social media feeds every day. Maybe instead of trying so hard to keep up with everything, we should all take a small step in resisting the velocity of our discontent.

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As 2025 winds down, I’ve been revisiting all my Friday Inspiration newsletters from the year and picking out my favorite links from each of them. I was going to do one “best of 2025” post at the end of the year, but there was a lot of good stuff, so this week’s Friday Inspiration is a collection of my favorites from the second half of the year, July through December 2025.

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I wrote a whole newsletter about Listers the day after I watched it this past fall, and the gist is, “I didn’t care about birding before this film, but I could not stop watching this 2-hour film about two brothers who decide to get very into birding for an entire year.” (video)

I started laughing my ass off at the 00:09 mark of this video, and then thought, “this video is 63 seconds long, what else could happen in the next 50 seconds to make it better?” and I gotta tell you, I did not expect this lady to walk up to this guy, and get the reaction she got from him, which made me laugh even harder, and also sort of restore my faith in humans. (July)

This one-minute video was simply titled “Researchers react to first-ever photos” on the youseeingthisshit subreddit, and I watched it three or four times before I poked around to try to find more info on why these guys were so excited about this bird. The video is from 2022, shot on Fergusson Island, off the east coast of Papua New Guinea, and the bird is a Black-naped Pheasant Pigeon, which is a bird species that hadn’t been documented by scientists since it was first described in 1882—it was one of 20 “lost” birds that hadn’t been documented for more than 100 years. The guy with the camera is Cornell researcher Jordan Boersma, and he’s showing the video of the bird to local biologist Doka Nason. More info in this Audubon article, but the video itself is just a moment of joy. Like I am not what I would call a big “bird person” but I loooooove this video. (July)

This is a brand anthem video for HOKA, which I guess is essentially a sort of ad, but I gotta say, it’s fucking great. Made me think I actually do love running, partly because of exactly what they depict in the video: community. Anyway, it’s two minutes, and I’ve watched it three times this week. (July)

My friend Ed sent me this short blog from Seth Godin, Scarcity and Abundance, and it partly captures something I have been thinking about often, which is a mindset of scarcity vs. a mindset of abundance, and how much more I gravitate toward other people who believe they can “win” without other people having to “lose”—and of course, vice versa, how I’d rather just avoid people who think the only way they can be happy is if they somehow “beat” other people. And how we should all think about that sort of thing more (especially when driving automobiles?). (August)

Great headline on this short piece from Steve Magness and Brad Stulberg’s newsletter: “The Most Underrated Performance Enhancer: Having Fun,” which is in the same vein of something I’ve told a lot of people when they mention the idea of starting writing a newsletter: have fun with it, or you’ll find yourself abandoning it because it feels like work. I believe Steve and Brad are writing more about success/winning, but I think we’re on the same wavelength (isn’t fun its own kind of success?). (August)

I am sure there is more to this story of the late musician and Harvard mathematician Tom Lehrer writing a letter to representatives for 2 Chainz in reply to their request for his permission to sample his song “The Old Dope Peddler,” but I think the writing itself is just *chef’s kiss*. (August)

I love artist/designer Mike Monteiro’s newsletter—in every post, he answers a question from a reader, in an essay, and I don’t read every post, but for whatever reason last week, the subject line “How to Stay Hopeful” grabbed me. And I was delighted to find that his answer had a lot to do with walking, bikes, neighbors, and cities. (August)

These shots are incredible, but I think made even better when you know a bit of the story of how long these photographers waited/planned/did math so they could get the shot. It would be really interesting to hear what they said about how they felt when they finally got these shots, and how they dealt with finally getting something they obsessed over for years. (September)

Do you need to look at a huge map of the entire Star Wars galaxy? Sure you do. Why am I not surprised (but still awed) that they created this? I love humans. (via Kottke) (September)

I don’t read every single email I get from the Poetry Foundation’s Poem of the Day, but I try, and occasionally I read one that’s just perfect for that day, like this one Ada Limón wrote about a small moment she witnessed on a subway platform: While Everything Else Was Falling Apart (September)

I think Keith Haring’s art is still relevant, and if you don’t believe me, how about this bit that Jillian Hess dug up from Keith Haring’s Journals? “Money is the opposite of magic. Art is magic. The worlds of art and money are constantly intermingling. To survive this mixture the magic in art has to be applied in new ways. Magic must always triumph.” (September)

My friend Ben Polley wrote this piece on who lives and who dies after getting lost in the backcountry, and there’s a bunch of fascinating stuff in it, including this bit from the chief of county search and rescue here in Missoula: “there are two main categories of outdoor emergencies: those that involve meeting a schedule and those that involve pleasing another person.” (October)

I am not usually interested in videos with titles like “Shocking police brutality in Ireland,” but this was posted on the ContagiousLaughter subreddt, so I figured I could chance watching all 30 seconds of it, and I’ll tell you, it delivers, and does not need a trigger warning. (I mean, I guess it is technically a “dirty joke,” as far as that goes.) (October)

I’m not interested in using AI for the stuff I create, but I’m also not that interested in spending my time shit-talking it or people who use it. That said, when artists I respect comment on the whole moment we’re in with all of it, I am interested in what they have to say. So I read this piece/cartoon by Matthew Inman (The Oatmeal) when it landed in my inbox, and I definitely agree with a lot of what he says here—not so much the insults directed at people who evangelize about it, more the “talent vs. skill” stuff. (October)

This Blackbird Spyplane piece Hilary sent me yesterday echoes something I have quoted my friend Forest as saying to me once, a piece of advice that lives rent-free in my head—You don’t look cool looking at your phone. My favorite part: “This is the real cure for “phone addiction” that no one has considered. Forget lightphones, forget apps that lock you out of other apps. Humans are a deeply image-conscious species. Just think about how dumb you look when you’re on your phone, and how you would never willingly look that dumb by any other means.” (October)

Maybe you’re paying attention to the World Series this year, or maybe not. Maybe you did or didn’t know that Game 3 went to 18 innings. Either way, here is a wonderful essay about staying up too late to watch the conclusion of that game, and I don’t think it’s spoiling it to say that the essay includes a mention of (and the trailer for) Invasion U.S.A., a Chuck Norris movie with a 22 percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes. (October)

This is a great story about making time to write, and sometimes making desks to write on, and also about stealing—well, maybe not stealing if it’s during down time at the job—time to work on creative stuff, even if it’s not paying your bills, or paying at all. (thanks, Mario) (November)

This Korean guy became a Detroit Pistons fan basically completely randomly, but then fell in love with the team and gradually became a die-hard fan, and then he saved up a bunch of money to make a trip to Detroit, and then a second trip to Detroit, and I’ll tell you what, Detroit loved this guy right back, and it’s a great story. (November)

I used to read Dave Barry’s column when it was printed on newspaper that was delivered to my parents’ house in the 1980s and 90s, when dinosaurs still roamed the earth, and I saw that he started a Substack a while back but I intentionally didn’t click on it because I wanted to preserve the Dave Barry of my childhood as he was. So: Thanks to Emily for sending me this Dave Barry piece about the exploding whale of Florence, Oregon, in 1970, which, as I learned in this story, will soon be the subject of a short documentary, and even though it’s been 55 years, I think it will be quite relevant to our current times. (November)

This article about the people who are still studying to be black cab drivers in London in the age of Uber is inspiring in the fact that passing the exam called “the Knowledge” is ridiculously hard, but it also gave me this strange sort of hopeful feeling, that maybe not everything we do as human beings is going to be replaced by tech that we think is great but ends up becoming, as Cory Doctorow termed it, enshittified. Like yeah, you could just use an app, but instead you’re taking on this nearly superhuman feat to memorize 25,000 streets in London and imprint the city map on your brain. Incredible. I’m rooting for this guy Besart to pass the test when he takes it. [GIFT LINK] (November)

Any interview with Ethan Hawke is pretty much clickbait for me, but even if you’re not a huge fan of his work, I highly recommend listening to the two minutes starting at 10:39, where the conversation turns to why movies about regular people are important (this link will start the video at exactly 10:39). (December)

I have not read that much Charles Bukowski, but damn, this is a really interesting piece about the most inspiring thing he ever said—which was in response to a journalist asking him what he thought about a library in Finland banning one of his books because someone complained that it was vulgar. (December)

This is probably more for people who have read a book to an infant or toddler in the recent past, but I was laughing out loud at Jae Towle Vieira’s writing in this Defector piece, “Here Is What Reading To My Child Has Done To My Brain,” commenting on the slight and not-so-slight absurdities in children’s books. Such as: “Before I had a kid, I questioned the need for the abundance of Wheels on the Bus variations. Now I understand that there is no upper limit to the ideal amount of things that could happen in threes on buses. All day long, all through the town—a la Speed, it doesn’t matter what we’re doing as long as the bus keeps going.” [GIFT LINK] (December)

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If my Friday Inspiration newsletters made your 2025 a tiny bit better, please consider keeping it going in 2026 by supporting my work through Patreon here.

Listen on Apple Podcasts | Listen on Spotify | Listen/Watch on YouTube

For My Favorite Things, I’m interviewing people about the books, movies, music, art, and other creative works that have helped shape their lives. My guest for Episode 6 is running coach, podcaster, writer, and runner Mario Fraioli. Mario’s favorite things are:

1. The Beatles — Here Comes The Sun
   Apple Music | Spotify | YouTube
2. Hunter S. Thompson’s letter to Hume Logan
   
3. On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King
   Publisher’s Page | Bookshop | Amazon
   
4. John Gruber’s Daring Fireball
5. The White Stripes — Little Room
   Apple Music | Spotify | YouTube
6. Seth Godin’s blog
   
7. The church at the end of Mario’s street

   Other things we mentioned:

• It Might Get Loud (trailer)
• Jimmy Page scene in It Might Get Loud

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This is a fun idea, and as someone pointed out in the comments, probably one of the safer things Red Bull has sponsored (thanks, Hilary) (video)

I don’t know what it is but something in these Illustrations from “The House Of The Future” scratched a nostalgic itch for me, probably involving photos of humans using jetpacks and flying cars in a school textbook when I was in third or fourth grade.

Gabe Bullard moved to Switzerland and found himself suddenly caring very much about the snails he saw everywhere. My favorite few lines from this piece: “I asked Estée Bochud [who manages the Natural History Museum’s malacology collection] if moving snails like I was doing might cause them stress. She said it seemed fine, since snails can start on an adventure and not realize what they’ve gotten themselves into until it’s too late. I understood the feeling.” [GIFT LINK]

Someone linked to this piece, Thin Desires Are Eating Your Life, somewhere, and I apologize, but I forgot where and can’t track it down, so apologies to that person. I can say that I am now thinking of things as Thick Desires vs. Thin Desires: “The business model of most consumer technology is to identify some thick desire, find the part of it that produces a neurological reward, and then deliver that reward without the rest of the package.” (via Kottke)

I imagine this [satire] headline will resonate with you if you have ever done laundry in your life: Study Finds Missing Sock Will Only Appear Once Matching Sock Has Been Executed

This appears to be a tweet from 2022 but I am laughing at it and considering doing it myself.

I read this story that Hanif Abdurraqib wrote on Instagram sometime just after Christmas, and I am pretty sure the reason I’ve read four of his books is because I assume Hanif Abdurraqib moves through the world like this all the time, and probably tells stories like this all the time too. But don’t take it from me, take it from the 17,000+ other people who clicked the heart icon on this post.

I am still cranking out episodes of my new podcast, My Favorite Things, and the latest episode is an interview with my friend, writer and running coach Mario Fraioli, who snuck in a couple extra favorite things into our chat, which was fine by me (also, Mario would like it noted that his audio settings were off and he sounds “like a chipmunk”).

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One of my newish favorite images of my kid, among the thousands, is him standing on the front of a lumber cart at a big-box home improvement store, holding his “sword” that his mom made for him out of parts from a toddler tool kit, wearing a dress that his mom also made him—really just kind of a skirt made out of a piece of fabric with beetles printed on it.

You could probably read a lot into his outfit, I suppose. But he has watched Frozen many, many times in the past few weeks, and I believe he likes to wear the dress because it makes him feel powerful. Elsa is the most powerful character in the movie, and she wears a dress. The sword, I’m not sure about, because Elsa never uses a sword, but lots of details about the movie are a little beyond him right now. But if you had sent me a photo of him with the sword and the dress on the front of the moving cart six years ago, and you had told me that I was the person pushing the cart, I’d have a lot of questions.

Our little guy turned three and a half last weekend. I don’t write much about him, or being a parent, and I always wondered if I could write something original about the experience of raising a kid. But it’s probably easier to just try to write the truth.

Years ago, back when I woke up to an alarm clock and not a child with immediate needs, I asked my friend Chris what he thought the biggest surprise about parenting was, and he said, “That the clichés are true.” Which I didn’t believe at the time, but he knew and I didn’t know anything.

Until 2021 or so, I did not think I’d ever become a parent, and I thought all parents said the same things about having kids: It’s the best thing I’ve ever done. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It goes by so fast. Et cetera, et cetera. And now I say all that cliché shit too, always reminding myself, dammit, Chris was right.

Here are a few things I’ve observed and thought about in the past 3.5 years:

Your kid is the cutest
Did you know that your kid is the cutest kid in the world, to you? It’s true. I imagine there’s some biological reason for this feeling among parents. Unless, of course, YOU think MY kid is the cutest kid in the world, in which case I would like to commend you on your impeccable taste and judgment.

Kids say the darndest things!
Or in our kid’s case, he said “Fucking Christ,” every once in a while, for several months when he was about two and a half. Hilary very politely tried to say that he could have picked it up from either of us, but I’m pretty fucking sure she was just trying to protect my feelings.

“Slow days, fast years”
I interviewed 40+ dads in the months leading up to Jay’s birth and the year after, and when I asked them what parenting forced them to improve about themselves, a great many of them said “patience.” This has never been more clear to me than when I ask Jay to wash his hands after using the toilet, or before eating. It is FUCKING ASTOUNDING how many things a three-year-old can find to distract himself from the one thing he is supposed to be doing. Look, I have 20 browser tabs open and can take an entire workday or two to write a 1,000-word essay, but six and a half minutes to wash your hands? Come on, man.

HOWEVER. Every bit of progress we mark as our little dude becomes more of kid and less of a baby means that part of his life—and our lives with him—is over. We have a shared Notes document where we type phonetic spellings of words Jay mispronounces as he learns to talk, because every time he figures out how to correctly pronounce a word, we lose his innocent, Beginning Talker words like “hollowcotter” and “dagedder.” [See Raymond Beisinger’s “The Affabet”]

Kids force you to be present.
Sure, playing with a toddler can sometimes feel tedious, especially when your presence is requested not to actually participate in the playing with, say, a train set, but to sit and watch your kid play with a train set. But when you pull out a smartphone and try to answer an email or check the weather and 15 seconds later you hear a tiny voice saying, “Dad,” as in, “Pay attention to me,” it’s really hard to not feel like a real asshole. Most dads I’ve talked to mentioned regretting that they had to work so much when their kids were young, and I get that, but at least work is earning money to provide food and shelter. There is literally almost nothing I can access on a smartphone that is worth ignoring my kid over. Even if he’s watching paint dry and asking me to watch him watch paint dry.

It’s gross
Previous to having a roommate who didn’t know how his butt worked, I thought I had a maybe slightly above-average comfort level with human feces. Like I feel like I have a Hirayama-in-Perfect Days level of comfort with cleaning toilets, don’t mind digging catholes or blue-bagging it in the backcountry, and have, since 2013, sold a “Grand Canyon Groover Calendar,” made up of photos I took while doing groover duty every day of a 28-day river trip. Well well well. Without getting into too much detail, the birth of my child marked a new epoch in my poop journey. This past December, we had a potty chair sitting next to our Christmas tree, long story, but that’s where we were. The irony of having a groover in my living room was not lost on me.

This is why we can’t have nice things.
Before I had a toddler, I had some stuff I cared about, and it was “nice.” Some of it’s still “nice.” Some of it has been dropped and/or broken and/or destroyed. Now that Jay has been our roommate for three and a half years, my possessions all probably fit into three categories:

1. Stuff that absolutely cannot get fucked up and needs to be hidden from child at all costs
2. Stuff that’s nice and that a toddler could maim themselves with, and therefore must be hidden from child
3. Stuff that’s nice, but let’s be honest, is less important than my kid’s experience of exploration and discovery, and therefor shareable, even if he breaks it, or that’s what I told myself after he broke it

It’s hard
People say raising a kid is hard. In my experience, they’re correct. I think what I didn’t expect was the diversity in types of “hard”: The interruptions of your own sleep that for the first three months or so feel like they’d be an effective interrogation tactic, the sudden disappearance of any time for yourself after decades of having what feels in retrospect like all the time in the world, trying to understand the psychology of a human being who is just discovering they have hands and that they act very irrationally when they are hungry or tired, the slowing down of literally everything you try to do as you chaperone an amateur human being through an airport or hardware store or the steps of putting on a sock—I could go on.

Am I complaining? I am not. Being a stupid idiot who believes that almost every meaningful thing in life requires difficulty or discomfort, I have realized that if I was forced to trade in all the hours it’s taken me to help raise this kid and do something else with them, I’d probably just pick another hard thing to do.

Also: I didn’t even do the physiological and psychological work of turning this dude from a zygote into a seven-pound human! Or the breastfeeding. As a dad, my body didn’t change in any noticeable way the entire time! I was just the assistant for all that stuff (maybe assistant manager?). And I still thought it was hard. Can you imagine if I had to be pregnant, give birth, and immediately feed and care for a thing that was a fetus 15 minutes ago?

“You’ll miss this”
There’s an old joke about mountaineering—or many jokes, probably, and the gist of them is basically: “That was miserable. I can’t wait to do it again.” It’s a joke, but it’s based on actual human psychology that we tend to forget the hard parts, and mountaineering, somewhat like child-rearing, has many hard parts.

“You asked for this”
I did. I asked for this. I consider myself privileged and lucky to be in a position to ask for this, and then receive it, and to have what has been a relatively smooth journey with it up until this point, all things considered. I would add the caveat, though, that maybe some of us weren’t super familiar with some of the specifics of the “this” that we were asking for, such as the amount of time I would spend using a Libman Easy Grip Scrub Brush to remove human feces from clothing, but also the feeling of reaching my hand down at a crosswalk and feeling a little hand reach up and grab my middle finger without ever taking my eyes off of vehicle traffic.

“You won’t understand until you have one for yourself”
See previous item. Also, to the extent that I understand raising a kid, I only understand my kid, not anyone else’s kid. Even if our kids are the exact same age, it’s not like we are comparing the same pair of running shoes or something— “Do you like the new cushioning in your Cascadia 19s? Me too.”

“They love to push your buttons”
I forget which parenting book I read this in, but yes, I too have felt that my kid has done a certain thing because he knows for sure that it will piss me off. Which is, of course, not true. Someone wrote somewhere that instead of imagining your two- or three-year-old is a smaller adult human who you can expect to act with some degree of rationality, it’s helpful to imagine they’re a raccoon, a creature you probably don’t think you can control.

“You get to see the world through a child’s eyes again”
Sure, this means watching some Daniel Tiger, or Bluey, or Frozen 25+ times or whatever. But it also means when I’m pedaling our cargo bike down the path to take Jay to preschool, trying to find things to talk to him about, and I see a three-quarter moon in the morning sky, and I realize this is a novel thing I can point out to my kid, and I say, “Jay, did you see the moon?” I am also telling myself to look at the moon, which is, compared to mentally cataloguing the dozen or so things I need to do today or stressing about an upcoming deadline, actually quite nice.

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If you enjoyed this piece, please consider supporting my work. 

QUICK ANNOUNCEMENT: Next Tuesday morning (January 13), we are opening registration for my 2026 “Running to Stand Still” Freeflow Institute writing + trail running workshop. It’s June 7-12 on Homestake Pass in Montana (10 miles from Butte, a couple miles from the Continental Divide Trail). We run every day (as a group, so not fast), we do two workshop/discussion sessions each day, and we eat lots of good food. This workshop sells out every year, so if you’re interested, send your email address to me at brendan@semi-rad.com (or you can just reply to this email) and I’ll send you an email when registration opens on Tuesday.

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I really appreciate that in the sea of “I DID X EXTREME THING” titles on YouTube, I got served this 13-minute film of this guy snorkeling in a river in Alabama in December, freezing his hands and feet (in a wetsuit) to create a very chill video of some nature, including this line of commentary: “It was pretty sweet to watch this colorful crustacean just straight up vibing in his natural habitat in the creek.” (video)

I figured this T Magazine photo feature titled “Our Favorite Home Libraries” would showcase a bunch of fancy, uncluttered Dwell Magazine-approved beautiful spaces, and sure, a lot of these are really pretty, but a few of them look like the books are doing a hostile takeover of a living space, and I appreciate that. [GIFT LINK]

I mentioned this once before the end of 2025, but newsletter sponsor Precision Fuel & Hydration has put together a sample pack of all of my favorite products so you can try the gels, chews, and electrolyte drink I use. I mean, I didn’t win any high-profile ultramarathon races last year—or any races for that matter—but I did run 1500+ miles and cranked out 300,000 feet of elevation gain, without getting a single cramp(!). (I believe this link will give you 15% off the pack, but if not you might have to manually enter SEMIRAD26 in the discount code spot when you check out)

This is a really vulnerable piece of writing about body image and breast explant surgery, by writer and runner Sarah Lavender Smith: I Need To Get Something Off My Chest

I was never a massive Star Trek fan aside from watching reruns of the original series as a kid in the 80s, but damn if I didn’t love clicking and dragging around these 360-degree panoramas of the interiors of some of the ships of Star Trek. (via Kottke)

The r/ContagiousLaughter subreddit always delivers for me: Seeing how many capes I can put on my client before she notices

This list of every U.S. state’s “loneliest road” was fun for a couple reasons—the methodology, the fact that I saw my pal James Q. Martin’s name in it (as the person they asked to “judge” the 10 most scenic routes out of the list of 50), and the photography (although I’m pretty sure one of the photos is of Interstate 90 through Utah, which is not very lonely at all, in my experience). And also that the loneliest road in Iowa goes right through my parents’ hometown of Emmetsburg, where I spent many days as a kid.

The Ringer has put together a 64-member “Ultimate Traitor Bracket,” including traitors from movies, books, and real life, and they’re already onto the Final Four, but I thought I’d link to the Sweet 16 post here, because it’s just fun to see who they put in it: LeBron James, Prince Hans from Frozen, Fredo Corleone, Cypher from The Matrix, Scar from The Lion King, Iago from Othello, the list goes on.

Listen on Apple Podcasts | Listen on Spotify | Listen/Watch on YouTube

For My Favorite Things, I’m interviewing people about the books, movies, music, art, and other creative works that have helped shape their lives. My guest for Episode 7 is Andy Pearson, VP of creative at Liquid Death, dad of two kids, ultramarathon runner, and co-host of the Between Two Pines podcast. Andy’s favorite things are:

1. Back to the Future Part II

2. Calvin and Hobbes

3. I Get Wet by Andrew WK
Apple Music | Spotify | YouTube

4. On the Road by Jack Kerouac
Publisher’s Page | Bookshop | Amazon

5. Boys and Girls in America by The Hold Steady
Apple Music | Spotify | YouTube

Other things we talked about:
The Curse

A heads-up: Registration opened for my Running To Stand Still writing + trail running course on Tuesday, and we have a $300 Early Registration discount if you sign up by midnight MST on Saturday January 17 (that’s tomorrow). If you like the sound of six days of mellow trail running, talking about writing and creativity with a group of fun people, and hanging out in the mountains of Montana, here’s the link for more info.

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This [professional enduro mountain biker] guy waited for McDonald’s to close to see if he could ride his bike for 24 hours straight in the drive-thru, an endeavor I respect immensely. (video) (thanks, Devin)

From the “key takeaways” at the top of this article: 1) Scientists have identified a stone wall nearly 400 feet long, lying 30 feet beneath the surface of the Atlantic Ocean. 2) It was built by hunter-gatherers more than 7,000 years ago, though its purpose remains uncertain. (via Kottke)

In 1983, artist David Hammons made a bunch of very round snowballs and sold them for $1 alongside other street vendors in Cooper Square in New York, and now I have to watch the documentary about him because the trailer at the end of this piece about his “Blizz-aard Ball Sale” looks fantastic.

My friend Nick Triolo mentioned this to me at least three times (twice in person and once in his Substack) before I finally got my act together and started listening to it: Fela Kuti: Fear No Man, by Jad Abumrad, who you may be familiar with from his fantastic Dolly Parton’s America podcast from 2019 or his other, also quite successful podcast that he did up until 2022, Radiolab.
Apple Podcasts | Spotify | YouTube

As I understand this (from reading about it on WebCurios), this is basically a live visualization of plane traffic for every airport in the world, made possible by three different websites and a bunch of computer magic my brain is too small to understand but WOW is it fun to click around a little bit. Kind of fun to type in your local/favorite airport and see what’s going on right now.

I follow the r/FoundPaper subreddit, and there’s often some interesting/mysterious stuff in there. This is less mysterious, but kind of a window into a nightclub’s operating instructions for when Carrie Underwood made an appearance there.

I met Evan Ward on our 2022 Freeflow Institute writing workshop (when we sea kayaked around the San Juan Islands in pre-season temperatures and semi-dicey weather), and I’m not saying the writing course necessarily had anything to do with this piece Evan wrote about volunteering to help people fix bicycles, but I loved it, both for the narrative and the reminder that sometimes doing simple things for people can make the world feel a little less crazy.

I forgot to mention this last week and we’re now halfway through the first month of the year, but if you’re a Strava user, I started this club a few years ago called “100 Grand,” and it’s basically for people who track how much they go uphill. If you get to 100,000 vertical feet (in one sport, or all sports) in a year, I send you a sticker. If you want one. And if you get 400,000 vertical feet, I will send you four stickers. I like the metric of vertical feet (or meters) because it has nothing to do with performance—just reminding yourself to go uphill every once in a while. Anyway, here’s the link to the club if you’d like to partake for the next 349 days.

Finally: I recorded this My Favorite Things podcast interview with Andy Pearson, ultrarunner, podcast host, and VP of creative at Liquid Death, in May 2024, and I finally published it. We talk about Back to the Future Part II, Calvin and Hobbes, Andrew WK, On the Road, and The Hold Steady’s Boys and Girls in America. There’s some crazy stuff in this episode, but the craziest thing to me was when Andy mentioned that he once had a co-worker who “didn’t like music” (!?!?!?!)

Kevin and I were running on the trail, chugging along, talking about why people write. Because if you ask a writer, they’ll tell you it’s often essentially a form of self-torture. Yet, we—writers—are compelled to keep doing it. But why?

We were on the fire road that cuts across the face of Mt. Sentinel about 800 feet above town, a double-track of dirt that goes for almost two miles of wide-open views and is a fantastic place to go if you enjoy talking while you run, because you’re right next to each other the whole time, minus one or two spots where you might have to step aside for another runner/hiker/dog walker.

I had a couple things to say about why it’s hard for people to write, because I am technically a writer, which just means I have figured out ways to publish enough words and make enough money for the IRS to not contest it when I put “writer” in the appropriate box on my tax forms.

On the day that Kevin and I went on this trail run, I was about 60 percent finished building a set of shelves in my garage, mostly out of materials I’d salvaged from the old shelves someone had built in our garage a few decades ago and didn’t work for us anymore.

Kevin had recently finished building something very similar and had sent me a photo of it, so here we were, two runners, who were also amateur carpenters and people who want to write, talking about all that stuff as we jogged along.

I note all this because I said to Kevin something like,

Well, it can be hard to justify spending several hours trying to write something, because at the end of all those hours, you might not think what you wrote is any good. If you spent that same amount of time and a bit of money buying some wood and trying to build a table or a set of shelves, and you didn’t quite get it right and the table or the shelves wasn’t the greatest thing ever, it would probably still be usable in some way.

Maybe you mess it up somehow and have to start over once or twice. And if you cut a piece of wood an inch or two too short, you might have to go buy some more wood so you could try it again. Sure, you fuck up some wood, but you end up making something, in your hours as a novice woodworker.

And that’s considered a normal hobby—compared to writing—because at least you’re making something that has a purpose, if only for the people who live in your house. Very different from, say, writing poetry, or short fiction, which may never get published or even get read by anyone else.

But look: We both know that you can go to a home improvement store and buy a set of those wire rack shelves, or a set of plastic ones, and they’ll work just fine to hold your stuff.

But you didn’t do that. You took three or five or eight hours or whatever and penciled out a sketch and went and bought some wood and some screws or nails, and you measured the wood and cut it and clamped it together and tried to get all the angles right and cut more wood and drove in screws or nails and got some sawdust all over yourself and maybe a couple splinters in one or more fingers, and you made something yourself, and it maybe didn’t turn out exactly like you thought it would, and maybe you didn’t end up saving any money after all, but it works, and it fits in the space better than something from the store, and now you can say, Sure it’s not perfect, and sure, plenty of other people could do better, but I made this one.

I guess I think that’s why we write.

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The early-registration discount for my Running To Stand Still writing + trail running workshop this June in Montana ends January 31. More information and an application link can be found here.

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Here’s a video version of the above essay:

I didn’t know that much about Tara Dower before watching this film, but I particularly like how she would rather introduce herself as “trail folk” instead of “ultrarunner,” and that one of her biggest talents seems to be inspiring an entire squad of friends to help her achieve her insane goals (and they all seem to be having so much fun doing it)(video)

Apparently a huge swath of the northern United States could see the northern lights this past week. I missed them, and maybe you did too, but this commercial airline pilot sure saw them from the cockpit of a Boeing 787 flying from Calgary to London and WOW did he get some wild photos of them.

I got really excited when I saw this video pop up on YouTube, listened to it like ten times, and announced to Hilary, “Hey, new José González album dropping soon,” and then realized that the album is not coming until March 27th. So, “Hey, new José González song available now” if you’re into that sort of thing, and if you’re not, let me just say that I have asked my music industry friend if José González is indeed the very nice guy he seems to be, and have received confirmation. He’s just one of those musicians who could keep writing music that’s 70-90% the same as his old stuff for the next 20 years and I’d keep eating it up.

I have feelings of great validation whenever I hear that someone smarter/more successful/faster than me espouses some sort of trick I’ve been doing for a long time without knowing that it’s actually a thing. Like when I read that author David Epstein sleeps in his workout clothes to eliminate that small bit of friction when he needs to get out and exercise the next morning. Or when sports scientist and CEO of newsletter sponsor Precision Fuel & Hydration Andy Blow says to spend two minutes the night before thinking about what training you’re going to do the next day as one of his tips of How to motivate yourself to train this winter. (<—This link will give you 15% off your first 2026 order on the PFH website, but you might also have to enter the code SEMIRAD26 when you check out)

This is the second time in two weeks that I’ve shared a link from the r/FoundPaper subreddit but I particularly enjoy this definition of art, and the photo of the room in the school basement where it was found.

This poem, “Occasional Poem,” by Jacqueline Woodson, simultaneously feels so effortless and so powerful, which is probably why she’s written more than 30 books and won a whole bunch of awards.

This photo gallery of the “snow monsters” that appear during winter conditions at Japan’s Mount Zao ski resort is so cool. I don’t know what else to say but it’s worth scrolling through on a screen, probably the bigger the better. [GIFT LINK]

I loved this short piece on Geographic Geoff’s substack, which answers a question that, like me, maybe you’ve asked before but maybe just in your own head, and maybe you, like me, were not in a place to google it, and then forgot about it, but now, please enjoy the answer to that question, “Lots of countries end with ’-stan’ but why?”

On our most recent Trailhead podcast episode, Zoë and I interviewed our mutual friend Doug Mayer, who started the tour company Run The Alps, and who has also run the 330-kilometer Tor des Geants not once, but three times, and wrote a graphic novel about the race. I probably say this a lot because I try to have fun in most things I do, but this episode was really fun to record, and I hope if you listen to it, you laugh as much as we did.
Apple Podcasts | Spotify | YouTube

Listen on Apple Podcasts | Listen on Spotify | Listen/Watch on YouTube

For My Favorite Things, I’m interviewing people about the books, movies, music, art, and other creative works that have helped shape their lives. My guest for Episode 8 is Chandra Brown, writer, educator, raft guide, and founder of the Freeflow Institute (where she has graciously allowed me to teach an annual writing workshop since 2019). Chandra’s favorite things are:

1. Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O’Dell

Publisher’s Page | Bookshop | Amazon

2. My Morning Jacket, At Dawn (album)

Apple Music | Spotify | YouTube

3. America Windows by Marc Chagall, Art Institute of Chicago

4. Sturgill Simpson concert at the Wilma in Missoula, November 8, 2016

5. Her dad’s Micromet weather data collection units, early 1990s to present

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If you get partway through watching this 9-minute video about “The Owl Man of Logan Airport” and you think, “OK, I get it,” please let me advise you to stick around to hear Norman Smith tell the Starling vs. Peregrine Falcon vs. Snowy Owl story (video)

This post has a handful of the captivating photos that Martin Roemers took of people around the world posing with (or in) their vehicles, and if you want to see a few dozen more, click through the links to his website (I wondered why the background was white in all the photos but one of the first photos on his website is a behind-the-scenes shot where you can see a vehicle parked on a huge white fabric backdrop). The book, Homo Mobilis, looks pretty great.

If you click on one thing in this week’s newsletter, let it be this wonderful story Anne Kadet wrote about The Trumpet Player in a Tux at Grand Central Station—and do yourself another favor and press play on the video so you can listen to the music while you read about this guy’s amazing life story and perspective.

Sometimes I think really good satire is just basically holding up a mirror to the things we do, without much exaggeration, and forcing the audience to admit that yeah, humans are pretty ridiculous. Like this McSweeney’s piece, Let Us Walk You Through Our Very Reasonable Baby Registry.

“The algorithm” gets a lot of well-deserved flak nowadays, and I think rightly so, but every once in a while it delivers me something like this 30-minute live set from this super-chill Ethiopian jazz duo Zena, from this Addis Ababa-based YouTube channel that has barely 1,000 followers, and it redeems itself a little bit. (I am aware that it’s not just one algorithm, of course).

Who among us has not at least once in their life been left hanging when trying to high-five/fist bump someone? This video of “left hanging moments” from NBA games was heartening for me, as I got to watch Very Cool NBA Legends like LeBron James, Steph Curry, and Kevin Durant get left hanging many, many times, and do the same thing we all do: self-clap. Like don’t feel bad, it happens to everyone, including the greatest shooter of all time.

I was going to try to write something original about this 17-second video of this guy getting served food, and by the fourth time I watched it, cackling every time at the end, I can do no better than the most upvoted comment, “Oh the look of betrayal on that man’s face”

AND: a quick favor to ask: I’m coming up on one year as co-host of UltraSignup’s The Trailhead podcast. If you’ve been listening, and could take 60 seconds and leave us a review on Apple Podcasts, I’d be grateful. And if you write a review, send your mailing address to me at brendan@semi-rad.com, and I’ll drop one of my “Put in the miles so you can put in the miles” stickers in the mail to you. Thanks!

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If you enjoyed this piece, please consider supporting my work. 

For a good chunk of this video, I thought, “maybe this is a little too heavy to put in my newsletter,” and then I remembered the director is Irish, and it couldn’t stay heavy the entire time, which is probably why it got nominated for an Oscar (video)

I started following Dedra Smith/Pikitsuaki Designs on Instagram a few weeks ago because one of her wonderfully clever western designs made into my feed and I thought “well, this looks interesting” (I think it was this one or maybe this one? ) and they’re too good to not share here too. (here’s her website if you’re not on Instagram)

I don’t know how many people who read this newsletter will perk up at the mention of “a collection of 40-plus essays, short stories, comics, poems, illustrations and other works by trans creators, exploring the deeper meanings of the Fast & Furious franchise,” but I’m just going to say that I finished reading 2 Trans 2 Furious: An Extremely Serious Journal of Transgender Street Racing Studies this past week and it was one of my favorite books I’ve read in the past few months. Probably one of those books/fanzines that will sell 1,000 copies but I’m really glad to say that a bunch of people made it. (It does say it features “erotica” but I think there were only one or two stories in the whole thing that were, ahem, racy.)

This is a story about my friend Syd’s friend Brian, written by their friend John, who happens to work for the New York Times. It’s about Brian’s nearly three-year battle with prostate cancer (after his oncologist told him he had three to five years to live in March 2023). It’s called “A Role Model for How to Die,” and is of course about a tough subject, but in the limited time I’ve spent with Brian, his spirit and personality definitely shine through the story. [GIFT LINK]

We interviewed author Brad Stulberg this past week for The Trailhead about his new book The Way of Excellence and it was a great time. I found myself highlighting lots of passages in the book, and my first question for him during the interview was basically “So your new book is about excellence. What’s something you’re you terrible at?” And he was a good sport about answering that (as well as our other questions).

I saw this Ringer headline, “How will we remember the Luka trade 100 years later?” And thought, “This HAS to be a joke, because, you know, American professional basketball leagues aren’t even 100 years old (“Go Fort Wayne Zollner Pistons!”), and a hundred years is a long, long time to remember anything, let alone a trade between two (OK, three) basketball teams. I am please to report that it is, indeed, a joke, and honestly a good bit, since I am barely aware of what’s going on in the NBA and I couldn’t escape coverage of the one-year anniversary of the Luka trade this past week.

Here’s a fun project coming up from some friends of friends: the World Climate Relay, a challenge week (June 5-12, 2026) involving (hopefully) 10,000-plus people from more than 50 countries, to raise more that $100,000 for high-impact climate charities via the Giving Green Fund. (It’s the same dates of my Freeflow Institute writing + trail running workshop so I wasn’t going to participate—but maybe we’ll do it as part of the workshop?). More information here if you’re interested/need something to get you motivated to get out there in June.

And finally: This mug was the best-selling item in my DFTBA shop last month (and so far this month):

Listen on Apple Podcasts | Listen on Spotify | Listen/Watch on YouTube

For My Favorite Things, I’m interviewing people about the books, movies, music, art, and other creative works that have helped shape their lives. My guest for Episode 9 is Mike Sowden, creator of the immensely popular Substack, Everything Is Amazing (I’m a paid subscriber). Mike’s favorite things are:

1. Halloumi
2. The soundtrack to Raise the Titanic, by John Williams

• Main theme
• Re-recordings of the soundtrack by the City of Prague Philharmonic Orchestra:
  • Apple Music | Spotify | YouTube

3. Microadventures by Alastair Humphreys

Publisher’s page | Bookshop | Amazon

4. Electric blankets
5. Distant lights seen at night

NEXT WEEK: On Thursday, February 19, at 6:00 p.m. MST, I will be doing a YouTube livestream + Q&A session about this year’s Freeflow Institute Running to Stand Still trail running and writing workshop in June. Sign up here via this link and I’ll send you an email the morning of the webinar containing the link to the livestream and a discount code good for $250 off your course registration. Hope to see you there!

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I love that Flea (yes, Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers) is still making music, is playing both the bass and the trumpet (his original childhood instrument) on said music, is putting out these funky videos on YouTube, and seems to be doing it in a very DIY style (he has less than 50,000 subscribers right now?), and that he just put out a song like this. (video)

It’s probably partly because I haven’t read that much of Charles Darwin’s actual writing, but also partly that he is such a revered titan of science, that I found these snippets from his letters so funny, including the one quoted in the title of this post, “Oh my God how I do hate species & varieties.”

Yesterday an algorithm served me a video titled something like “how to train like [Denver Nuggets star] Aaron Gordon, and I thought, “How dare you think I, a middle-aged dad, would compare myself to a 30-year-old full-time athlete who is paid millions of dollars each year to be good at basketball.” I did not click on the video, but I did click on this link in an email from newsletter sponsor Precision Fuel & Hydration because it was titled “How to balance your training with work, family and life,” and I was not disappointed to see coach Dougal Allan pretty much say, “be reasonable,” and also to think of time commitments to work/family/fitness as investments, instead of the other way around, in which you would think of the “sacrifices” you make when choosing how to spend your time. [clicking on the link to the article will apply a 15% discount to any purchase you make from the PFH website]

I was a little uncomfortable in the first few seconds of this video of this guy who starts out very aggressively wanting justice for the theft of his bike (because that’s usually how videos on social media go), but was quite relieved to see how the situation resolved. (thanks, Joe)

Hilary wrote a Substack essay about riding the bus with our little guy, Jay, and everything she says in the piece is true. She and Jay have also converted me into a fan who is now incorporating it into many bus-there-run-home or run-there-bus-home preschool dropoff/pickup plans. But the essay is of course about bigger things.

This is a 15-second video but a very powerful take on the saying (which is also the title of the video), “Everyone’s living a life you know nothing about. Be kind” (via Kottke)

This feels like a long time ago (even though it was just last summer) but Mountain Outlaw magazine published a profile of me with photos by my friend Bobby Jahrig, and words by journalist Maggie Doherty, who was great to chat with.

My first thoughts when reading this story were 1) “I would never do that to my mom and dad” and 2) “I hope my kid never does that to me,” but thought #3 was “WOW, that’s what I call commitment. Or insanity? Or both.” (thanks, Justin)

And finally, here are some new t-shirts I designed from an idea by Patreon supporter, ultrarunner, and all-around swell guy Ned Abbott (we’re donating 50% of the profits to a nonprofit recommended by Ned):

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