Sometime last year, I posed the question as to which season was my favorite. It’s caused me to be more hyperaware of what’s going on at any time in hopes of understanding which period brings me the most fulfillment. It may be why I’ve suckered myself into thinking each one is actually my favorite, only to get to the end and think that it was sort of mediocre. For example, I find winter to be a great time for rumination, had it not been for the obligatory external factors that welcome communal gatherings (good) and forced expectations (bad). I guess to me, traditions are only so good as long as they come from a place of genuine passion, and Christmas has long felt like a time buried underneath layers of artifice. You could argue it’s the most Twin Peaks season as a result, but it left me wondering what spring would feel like.
The downside is that the heat sucks, no contest. The good news is that in the many baseball and softball games I attended lately, none were met with 95° temps like in 2025. I’m grateful for any day where dehydration doesn’t kick my ass. Of course, we still have summer to worry about, but for now, I want to focus on May 2026 and the argument for why spring could be a strong contender for favorite season, even if I’m starting to form the impression that they’re equally bland and forgettable in their unique ways.
I’m thinking that a lot of this has to do with the paradoxical nature of spring feeling like a different kind of conclusiveness. Unlike winter, where it’s the end of a calendar year, you get to May and find different personal achievements unfolding. For example, former coworkers from years back graduated from my alma mater (Go Beach!), and I am happy for them. As a result, we also have some college tournaments to keep me entertained. Sure, CSULB didn’t make the volleyball finals, but that’s how things go sometimes. I’m still proud of having that much access to an enviably talented group of athletes every week, and some of those tournament games found them stepping up in ways I initially doubted.
Beyond college sports, we also have the professional circuit. As one can guess, I am drawn to what basketball is doing in the playoffs. Some feelings are inevitable – notably my continued belief that The Los Angeles Clippers need to trade Kawhi Leonard already – but there’s also been surprises. I’m not wishing to denigrate the greatness of Victor Wembamyama, but I didn’t have faith that The San Antonio Spurs would be this good. To watch them is to be shocked at what the young bucks are capable of. I’m still riding for The Oklahoma City Thunder (who may be facing a Game 7 - at the time of writing this), but then again, I’m just up for good basketball, and they’re delivering. That Game 1 double overtime was an excellent way to announce that we’re in a new era of NBA icons. It’s a feeling that makes me both excited and remorseful for how time has passed from any perceived “glory days,” even though this sport has always been a good time.
Then again, if I’ve had an issue with the playoffs, and this is something most probably faced long before this, it’s that Adam Silver and crew have really fucked up the broadcast distribution in ways that don’t cater to the fans. It’s less of a problem now that there are two central playoff series to focus on, but early on, it was like trying to figure out if tonight was going to be on ESPN or Peacock or Amazon Prime. I get that this interferes too much with the NHL’s season (which, speaking of, I saw an awful lot of Anaheim Ducks merch in the past month as well for the first time in my adult life), but the coordination is so buggy. While I’m glad that the Inside the NBA team has a more accessible outlet (PLEASE don’t leave us with Stephen A. Smith during The Finals), I’m sometimes unsure if a game is on, and if I’m unsure if a game is on, I’m not watching. I’m sure there’s some logic for covering all of your bases in terms of accessibility, but it’s a tad ridiculous. I also don’t want to be split-screened on Peacock for gambling shit every time I put the game on. I may place predictions, but gambling is not my forte. This enabling of someone’s compulsory addiction feels on par with a dealer giving you fentanyl and then being like, “My bad, bro. But you know what? I got a homie who runs a rehab that’ll patch you right up.” I think it feels worse because it’s a partnership with a professional, well-respected institution whose code of ethics has shaped a lot of appreciation for the game.
And speaking of real quick, The WNBA has started its season, and I am thrilled to see where that goes. The sad news is that one of my favorite small-time players, Alissa Pili, got drafted out of the league. I feel bad because she was a good player who never developed properly with any team. When I saw her play last season, I was excited because that potential was shining through (she blocked A’ja Wilson!). Alas, I wish her luck in her future endeavors. I also hope I get to see Kate Martin on her third team in as many years. Finally, I have a few games on the calendar for summer, so stay tuned. However, the sad news is that this is the first season since I began attending that The Las Vegas Aces are not on the docket. Simple answer is that it was poor planning. But hey, excited to see what becomes of The Golden State Valkyries in season two.
To shift slightly again, another reason that spring turned out to be a pretty good season is because of The Los Angeles Fair. This was one of the years where I thought that I’d be burned out, especially given that we’ve gone a few times and I’d imagine “seen it all.” As much as I can wax philosophic about how it’s a chance to detach from city life and appreciate simpler things, it’s still an all-day ordeal that can go south if you don’t find the hook. I’m not nearly as critical as David Foster Wallace was, but you have to imagine the novelty wears off sometimes. But hey, it’s where I found a copy of Thomas Pynchon’s “Bleeding Edge” (for free) and a pointillist rendition of Renee Magritte’s “The Lovers.” Maybe I would find something cool this year.
In short, I found a jar that read (and I’m not kidding) “Deez Nuts” as well as what I’m convinced are aromantic socks. At another point, I attended a cooking panel that lost me halfway through, but gave me enough time to want to make a sugar bowl. When jumping over to the art, I found myself more in tune with certain artists this year and admiring their technique. Someone made a painting using old newspaper, while another used pins and wrote notes on the back to express how they were feeling that day. I found myself admiring the process this year, and I was especially moved by an enlarged painting by Chet Glaze involving a staircase and transparent dogs depicted in a psychedelic color pattern. I’m not one to get emotional or contemplative when looking at art, but I returned to it at least three times before leaving, finding new ideas emerging each time.
I’m also trying to be more receptive to creators that I’m not immediately friends with. Despite having a general appreciation for anyone who hoofs it, I’m not sure that I’ve read a bio anywhere and been jotting their name down. They become forgotten, their work no longer attached to an identity, and later, no legacy at all. I’m trying to fix that as the culture feels more indebted to its own A.I.-generated downfall by finding sincerity and effort. Chet Glaze definitely stands out as someone I immediately went to follow on Instagram. Since I have nowhere else to put this, I also found an actress from when I went to The Long Beach Playhouse to see Harvey, who runs a fun YouTube channel called TalithaTV. Given how fun I thought she was in the show (she also has videos of her knitting between performances), it’s been enjoyable to see what else she does.
At the fair was also a blacksmith who far exceeded my expectations. Ironically, this is my second encounter with a blacksmith in ways that have done so. The first time was years ago, up in Big Bear, when I found out that the guy was a teacher around Long Beach earlier in life before moving up there. He writes for the local publication, and I’ve been meaning to track his work down. But this 2026 visit initially took me aback because I assumed it was a very masculine craft, and yet a woman named Dana, who looked to be around my age, gave this captivating presentation. I should say that I don’t know if it was captivating because of her thoroughness or that the approach had this millennial undertone. We talked to her for a bit afterwards, and it led me to her social media, which made me discover that she’s also a filmmaker, and I’m wishing her the best. She says she wants to make her first feature, and I hope it proves enriching.
To shift a little bit, I think the one upside of May being packed with other activities is that it’s allowed me to think of things that are more upbeat and positive. I feel like the world is just a dark place right now. For example, I am only a few days removed from learning that the amount it takes to fill up half a tank of gas in my car is now officially total to what my February/March averages were. I’m bothered by that factor, especially given that I imagine it’s much, much worse for people with bigger commutes.
Still, it gets into the paradoxical notion of what it means to try and live an honest life. The Reflecting Pool in D.C. is getting an uneven paint job. We’re trying to get a big-ass archway that was illegally approved. I’m not totally over what happened to The East Wing either, which feels like the greatest loss of history. For a president who claimed in 2016 that he wanted to bring America back to its former glory, it doesn’t feel like there’s any continuity to that time. It’s being rewritten with the traitors possibly getting slush fund money while we continue to make jokes about him saying, “What's a good one? A SQUIRREL!” I get he’s aloof, and I feel like generations 50 years removed will see this comedy the way some of us look at Ford and Reagan gaffes, but he’s so hateful. Trans rights are being taken away at an upsetting rate, while others within the group have been murdered, including Jubilee Blessing. It’s a hostile time, and I don’t think the country really deserves its 250th celebration to be the least bit spangled. I’m not saying that there’s a lot to love, but half the capitol, physically, is cracked and broken in an unrecognizable condition. How the fuck is that something you want to memorialize in July?
Again, I think it goes back to the idea that we currently don’t have a sense of history. This isn’t some CRT rant, but more that preservation of “the classics,” as I’ll put it, is dwindling. Nothing feels built upon the past so much as scorched earthing the iconography I was taught to find attachment in. I get that these are all just symbols, but just like that line in the national anthem that goes, “our flag was still there,” you want some visual to let you know of unity and shared history, a story of endurance and standing up for what is believed to be just. I’m fearing the 250th anniversary remarks because I feel like they’ll be less about legacy and more division between two parties. Why would you want to be proud of a man who sadistically hates freedom of speech and led to Stephen Colbert’s cancellation because he chose to be critical? Not only that, but how do you see him release an A.I. video of him dunking Colbert in a trash can and not think he’s the most shallow man to have ever been born a citizen? It kind of makes you understand why that journalist mistook gunfire for fireworks. Nothing makes sense now.
To shift a little bit, there’s another political story that I want to comment on. The first step in California’s gubernatorial race is upon us. At the time of publication, the deadline is only days away, and the options are shrinking. Part of the past month was me watching a lot of debates to have an informed opinion, but also to have a gut reaction. I’m not the most intuitive, but I do enjoy studying the character of candidate speakers and seeing who feels genuine and, more importantly, effortful. Long story short, I don’t know if I could trust you if you vote for Chad Bianco. He’s the bad guy from One Battle After Another (2025) and, in six hours of material, never provided a platform that wasn’t just accusatory. As much as it pains me to say, there’s a handful of others that got lost in the mix because they just couldn’t be loud enough (I’m looking at you, Katie Porter).
If you were to ask me who my vote would be for on a deeply-rooted, passionate level, I would tell you without flinching that Matt Mahan is my favorite. I’m soft for small-town hero types and always imagine that they provide the best chance of a new approach to institutions. I’m not sure that I fully agree with everything he said, but he seemed the most genuine and had his heart in the right place. The issue is that, after six hours, I’m not sure that he built any confidence on the initial few runs. It was a lot of carbon copy talking points, and he was easily undermined by other debaters towards the end. I worry that he would get lost in the shuffle among careerists, though I hope he continues to build up accomplishments.
Before I get to my vote, I want to say, as I have for years now, that I am not ever voting for Tom Steyer, and he has been especially annoying this cycle. He has the market cornered on TV ads, both for him and smear attacks. The issue is he feels meticulous and insincere with everything, like even when he tried to paint himself as genuine, it feels like a production meant to convince you he’s sincere. Not only that, but for a man who says he’s working for the working class voter, it’s rich that he chose to only interview people in the ad from two major economic hubs in San Francisco and Los Angeles. Nobody in Central California is doing it for you, Steyer? If anybody has proof that he’s got alternate ads for that region, please let me know, because so far it feels like a poorly manipulative strategy.
With all this said, I ultimately voted for Xavier Becerra. Part of it is name recognition and experience, yes, but it was also that he gave the most impactful presentation in the debates. When he was cornered, he presented himself confidently and offered solutions where most just complained about problems for 60 seconds. I’m not saying he’s perfect, but I want somebody who is not just a social media hound like Gavin Newsom, who trolls the president online and calls that a win. Listen, dude. You are as bad as the problem. Nothing is being solved, and the joke will fade. Becerra, at least from a distance, looks like he’ll be less “camera ready” and focus on real issues. I’m tired of leaders needing to feel like local celebrities. We didn’t elect you for that. Give us confidence in the institutions you represent. Don’t make us worry that you’re jacking off with taxpayer money.
Anyway, if it applies to you, I hope you get out there and vote. Having turned my ballot in over 10 days ago now, I have appreciated not having that guilt around to weigh me down. I’m nervous about the results, but it’s also a chance to have a more focused view of the final vote in a few months. Fingers crossed.
I figure it’s a good time to move on to lighter topics. Despite mostly going the past few months of not watching any film, I decided to go out and see I Love Boosters (2026). In short, Boots Riley won me over with Sorry to Bother You (2018) to the point I was constantly in conversation with their Twitter marketing team because I was obsessed with the minor details. It’s still among my favorites from the 2010s and marks a high point in Lakeith Stanfield’s short career. I’m happy to say that his next film has mostly lived up to expectations, and it makes me hopeful that he’ll continue to make art that resonates on multiple levels. It’s thought-provoking but also hilarious and shocking in all of the right ways. It may reach certain self-indulgent points, but this is the type of art that should be made more frequently, or at least this shamelessly.
One of the only other films I saw this month was Kill Bill: The Whole Bloody Affair (2004). To put it mildly, much of my 30s has been spent coming to terms with the fact that Quentin Tarantino is an overrated filmmaker. Don’t read that as meaning he’s awful, but, in my opinion, public perception is in great disparity. He knows how to make an entertaining, memorable hook that stays with you and gets you passionate about cinema. However, as someone who prefers character studies with depth and subtext, he’s never been that, no matter how much you want to convince me The Bride is a feminist character.
Part of it is, yes, that I might’ve been out of my league for a 4.5-hour movie that night. However, I found myself somewhat disappointed in the experience. “Vol. 1” was a very repetitive bloodbath with little character development. The women were all out for revenge because of abuse or defilement. There’s no alteration from this path, and it’s frustrating to have every character be similarly one-note. I get that it’s called Kill Bill and you’d expect killing in that movie, but I look at contemporaries from overseas, notably Park Chan-Wook and The Revenge Trilogy, and you have this push and pull of morality that goes deeper than bug-eyed spectacle. Yes, “Vol. 2” improves on this, but you don’t realize how repetitive “Vol. 1” is until you bring with it a critical lens. It’s still fun, but I’m becoming convinced that it’s a bit too exploitative of Tarantino’s passions and belittles Japanese iconography, especially a bit too much. It’s got some decent fusion, but it’s ultimately a movie without any redeeming characters. The protagonist wins out solely because they’re the least problematic, as everyone abused her like Regina George in Mean Girls (2004).
Again, don’t come to me and suggest that I hate fun. Kill Bill was one of those pivotal movies for me as a teenager. I’d still argue it’s one of the reasons I am deeply in love with how a soundtrack is used in film (that and Snatch. (2001)). However, it’s a point-and-shoot type of movie, and that gets very repetitive in close proximity. I think my other issue is that almost 35 years after his directorial debut, there hasn’t been much in the way of personal auteurship from him. Even Steven Spielberg (can’t wait for Disclosure Day (2026)) knew how to make alien abduction movies personal, and that’s mostly about a dirtbag husband abandoning his family.
Other than that, I have been a big fan of The Bear’s special episode “Gary.” In a time when I wasn’t watching a lot of new movies or TV, I flocked to that quickly. It’s maybe one of the better Cinco De Mayos I've had, just because I love this universe even if the series has grown a bit tedious at times. It’s still a nice little drama full of vulnerable characters who are trying to make sense of their lives, and I love how artfully it’s done, somewhat owing its lineage to the indie and mumblecore films I have long called personal favorites. “Gary” is a high point for sure, if just because of how it builds on interpersonal dynamics and allows you to better understand these characters on a mundane level.
Also, real quick, I was a big fan of Ramy Youssef’s new special In Love as well as Don Hertzfeldt’s latest Paper Trail. Check those out if you haven’t. I know Josh Johnson has a new special out and, given how well his PR is working on stand-up clips, I’m sure I’m going to get a lot out of it.
It also feels right to pay homage to the commercial that has now been stricken from the California record. For legal reasons, Kars 4 Kids is no longer allowed to air their jingles in my state. I’m not wishing to romanticize it as some achievement of mass marketing, but that was one of those iconic evergreen ads that knew how to get under your skin and form an immediate reaction. I’m not even sure how new the commercials were, but seeing those kids poorly play instruments was enough to throw half of my family into panic to find the remote, and I always loved having that in my back pocket. I have to imagine those actors graduated from college with a master's by now. Curious to know if anything will replace its omnipresent dread that I loved having in my TV viewing diet.
To start closing things out, I want to briefly touch on music that I’ve been loving. Right now, it’s been a lot of De La Soul and Courtney Barnett when I need to get moving. I’ve also been putting on random Sonny Rollins records to honor the legend’s passing (check out “The Bridge” if you haven’t). As far as newer records, I am especially riding hard for Hyd’s new record “Hold Onto Me Infinity,” which expands on what I liked about “Clearing” and finds a more personal and clear direction that builds some powerful emotions, especially if the lore around P.C. Music and Sophie means anything to you. This is one of the most jubilant records I’ve heard all year and is very life-affirming. Jumping around a bit, I also really like Aldous Harding’s “Train on This Island,” Deb Never’s “Arcade,” and Charley Crockett’s SECOND album from April 2026 with “Clovis.” I also want to check out Leroy’s new album, even though Jane Remover’s Coachella set convinced me that I’m maybe not as big a fan as I thought to the aggressive stuff.
I’m also very tickled by the new Kacey Musgraves album featuring the line, “What kind of asshole doesn’t like Willie?” Given how much of that album is about being in a “Dry Spell,” it’s hard not to read that as a little juvenile, but nonetheless, it’s a decent record.
I would also like to briefly touch on some records I’ve liked from 2026 so far. Given that we’re six months in, it felt right to share. Here are 15 that stand out, though there are many more where that came from.
Finally, there’s probably a bunch to say about Euphoria. Given that there’s one more episode to go, I won’t entirely blow my essay for next week out of the water, but do know that the journey has been interesting for one reason. I was the type to say at the start that it could still be good even if it was veering too far into camp. At least it was camp that “made sense,” let’s just say. However, I am now at the point where Sam Levinson has burned the bridge, and I have no idea what he’s doing on the other side. As someone who rides for Jules especially, the past two seasons have been rough, and I have to wonder if Levinson will ever rebound, given how poorly his other work in the past decade has been received.
But other than that, June is upon us shortly. I’m looking forward to it, even if Pride Month™ hasn’t felt special in a few years. I’m hoping to see some rainbows and feel the least bit festive. I will say that seeing any queer representation anymore does perk me up a little bit, but it’s strange how things feel different after only two years. Even if they were more turbulent then, it’s strange how docile and forgotten it feels when rainbow capitalism isn’t even cool anymore.
I’ll keep my chin up for now. There’s plenty to look forward to in June, no matter what happens. I know that I’ve been critical and overlong on things, but life has mostly been good to me. The summer is approaching, and it’s a chance to be social and indulge in creative activities. I’m not sure what will happen, but I need to keep pushing myself and overcome the heat somehow. Otherwise, got a novel to continue writing (200 pages in!) and a Los Angeles Sparks game at the end of the month. It’s also a time when I may get a bit too self-reflexive and emotional, so I apologize if the next entry feels a bit subdued in that sense.
But hey, I’ll at least have seen the Tony Awards by then. Short of actually seeing the show, I will admit that this feels like one of the “lesser” years from a distance. I’m unsure if I’ve talked on here, but Two Strangers Carry A Cake, as a soundtrack, did little in the way to impress me upon first listen. I’m hoping that the more I dig into it, I see its simplistic charm, which I can recognize is there, but it all feels so slight. I’m less enthused about hearing Titanique, which sounds like the complete opposite of the shows I like to see. I would also like to give Schimigadoon! some credit given that I like the TV series it originated from, but I am personally not somebody who clamors for early musical pastiche. Oh sure, I think there hasn’t been a musical better than My Fair Lady (though Les Misérables and Fiddler on the Roof have come close), but it feels a bit trivial to continually call back to old motifs when you could just introduce new audiences to those originals, given the nature of revivals. I guess The Lost Boys remains the outlier that I don’t know a lot about and my only experience is that Tim Roth line in Reservoir Dogs (1992)… though the pictures of the staged version look pretty.
If I had to give my support to one show, it’s the homerun revival of Ragtime, which has some of the most impressive vocal work I’ve heard on a cast recording in the past two years. If you find anyone who does a better job than Joshua Henry this year, then it’ll have been the best year for theater. I love what he does on the record and am looking forward to his performance, especially. Finally, shoutout to Ben Levi Ross, whom I got to see on a professional tour of Dear Evan Hansen from the second row. It’s one of those performances that resonated with me and made me eager to see where his career goes. Thankfully, it’s only gone upward in the near-decade since. Wishing both of these guys the best.
Other than that, I want to wish everybody good luck and hope that May treated them well. I apologize for not being very vocal this month on here. I hope to be more organized next time and give you a bit more entertainment in the process. For now, just know that I am happy and doing what I can to not be too down on myself. So far so good. Anyway, how was that Spelling Bee this week? I haven’t seen this at the time of writing, but by the time of publication, it will have been over. Just know that I probably missed a bunch of the words. That’s how it goes. I just love the competition. Hope you have your own way of staying happy. Take care.
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