The summer months are here and, with that, an excuse for everything to happen everywhere all at once. Compared even to May, June came in swinging with a level of intimidation that I haven’t felt since December. When you’re focusing in more on topics to write about for this column, it’s easy to take for granted how empty the winter and spring period can be. On the one hand, it’s a very relaxing time when you can recharge and catch up. If you’re HBO, you could even throw in a scorcher of a miniseries that’ll get some Emmy nominations regardless. This is all to say that as we transition into the hottest months on the Southern California calendar, it only feels right to note a lot of what went down over the past four months.
Picture, if you will, how different the world felt on June 1st. Euphoria had just ended the night before to a largely negative response. There was still some time before this year’s Tony Awards were handed out. The New York Knicks had yet to break a half-century’s curse of losing The NBA Finals as they awaited their fate against The San Antonio Spurs. Gas prices were still above $5, and the president was touting the wise investment of repainting The Reflecting Pool. This was a time before the great indie cinema boom of 2026 would reshape conversation around the medium’s future. People still believed that Freedom 250 State Fair concert was happening. Not a lot about the world felt that different, and yet… it was all about to triumphantly crash down.
To quote one of my least favorite musicals: June is busting out all over. As much as I’ll extrapolate and go off in different directions, I felt the need to open with a summary just to reflect on how exhausting it has been to keep track. Even as I write this, we’re only a day removed from the return of The Bear, and I am idealistically sitting in a theater this afternoon preparing to laugh my head off to Jackass: Best and Last (2026). These are the social hours, the times when we should be out having fun. And, to be completely honest, I have.
At the time of publication, the most recent big event I went to was the 30th season anniversary game for The WNBA between The Los Angeles Sparks and The New York Liberty. I generally go three times a year, and this is my first for 2026. Having seen this pairing at least four times now, I had my assumptions going in on who would win. Despite conflicts around their new coach, The Liberty have struck me for at least three years now as a superior, dominant team. In fact, the past few appearances in So Cal have been blowouts of the worst proportion. It’s the type where you’re not even sure if you want to come back after halftime.
And yet, I felt inclined to give into the sports fanatic mentality. By the third quarter, The Sparks were coming back from a double-digit deficit and preparing to end with a nonstop tie-fest between the teams until finishing with seconds to spare on a three-point shot to clench it. As somebody who’s been around since 2021, there’s that part of me that is getting high on stupid stuff like how maybe having Nneka Ogwumike back will give us the edge. I’m not suggesting we’re the best team, but when you get that buzzer-beater win and the most deafening roar you’ve heard in an arena since Luka Doncic was on The Dallas Mavericks with Kristaps Porzingis, you want that good feeling to last. The Playoffs were within reach last year. Upward trajectory can’t let us down. Go Sparks!
We’ll be returning in a few weeks for their next game against The Indiana Fever. I will reserve judgment until that time, but I worry that this sensation will not be making a pit stop. I’m personally a skeptic, but Caitlin Clark draws a crowd for a reason. Maybe I’ll recoil and say that we got lucky against The Liberty (true), but for now I will be preaching the importance of every win, if just to give us a bigger barrier for that cutoff date leading up to the postseason.
To shift only slightly, how about them Knicks? To be completely honest, this was one of those years where I was not invested enough in either Finals team to have a deep emotional response. As much entertainment as I got watching Victor Wembanyama, there was no match for New York’s insanely entitled group of fans. There’s something infectious about the joy they had watching the team basically pull off a near-perfect postseason. It’s strange to see the place reach that level of pandemonium and recognize the unity that sports brings to a community. It’s hard to notice out here in Los Angeles, in part because we win a lot and also because I find a lot of those fans annoying, but out there it means something. As obnoxious as it was to see Seth Meyers and Jon Stewart do the same set-up comparing The Knicks celebrations to The White House U.F.C. fight, I can at least say it felt genuine in its editorialization. For as much as I’d love to have seen this enthusiasm for a Denver or Milwaukee victory, I’m in awe that we have any culture to be proud of at a time like this.
At the risk of contradicting my own point, I think it’s hard not to make the obvious comparison between genuine emotion and something that feels forced. I’ve largely avoided discourse around the White House U.F.C. fight, if just because it’s a sport that I have no interest in. That, and something was unsettling about watching fighters wander those avowed hallways of legislative history with the pageantry of artificial conflict. I’m not discrediting people who like wrestling and adjacent entertainment. I simply found the exercise a bit off-putting in a time when the entire Capitol looks closer to an industrial park than the triumphant marker of perseverance, in a time when our legacy is being reprinted on commemorative currency.
This isn’t meant to be combative or start a fight. I am sincerely looking for an answer that will restore some optimism for the days ahead when I’ll need it most. A question I’ve had trouble answering goes as followed: What is there to be patriotic about? If you’re under 25, you’ve only really known the modern America that’s been defined by division and now a country that appears unsuitable to anyone with more than two commas in your bank account. I ask as I look at The Reflecting Pool and see algae growing while ducks die and read about how millions were wasted on this endeavor. I look at The East Wing and my soul dies a little. I understand that these are just symbols, but architecture has a way of uniting people with hope and potential; to look back at Jefferson or Lincoln and be like, “You know what, those men fought for our freedoms and I appreciate that!” If I believe in any truth established long ago, it’s the idea of the living, breathing document; the more perfect union. There’s a need for evolution and reconsideration of history to keep growing and evolving. Right now, it feels like everything I grew up valuing is disappearing and graffitied with unjustifiable ownership. That’s why I ask, in light of America 250, what is there to be proud of?
As a Californian, I suppose there’s some pride in knowing that we’ve just completed the first stage of our next gubernatorial election without any conflict. The president may cry shenanigans, but I’d argue the process is working as it should. From the dozens, if not hundreds, of candidates, I’m relieved to know that Xavier Bacerra pulled ahead because he conveys what I want out of a leader the most. I’m tired of performative leaders who need to let you know that they trolled the president on Twitter. I’m thankful that I didn’t need to vote for Los Angeles mayor because that headache reminded me that I also want people who are not just going to be camera-ready and fish for soundbites. I get that we’re in a new generation where politics need to be more confrontational and marketable, but that’s misunderstanding the job. You’re a politician, not a performer. Go to Hollywood if you’re really that desperate to have your face on screen. Also, good on Tom Steyer for spending millions and not getting anywhere. Stop virtue signaling or keep losing. You can’t have both.
But in all seriousness, I long for July 4 to ever feel special again. While I’m grateful that I.C.E. raids have largely died down, I can’t pretend that they have stopped altogether. There is that constant fear that something awful will happen, especially as I read about people being harassed while visiting this country for FIFA games. I also wish we were capable of understanding that Iranian players are not their government, but that’s an even thornier issue. It feels lately like the goal of the bullying is to wear us down until we stop caring, where we hold so little power that we get bulldozed into a much worse place. I’m grateful for those still fighting, even if the ammo is being used against someone whose defense system seems to be either arrogance, dementia, or both. Yell at him, and you lose something else. He lacks guardrails. Your trusted local news affiliates are going to need to play nice or risk sleeping with the fishes.
It’s all unfair before you recognize the various subcategories of issues. Idaho almost passed some anti-trans legislation around bathrooms. Similarly, I’ve read about professional volleyball leagues sharing their displeasure with The Olympic Committee (run by his truly) that only women are forced to participate in invasive prescreening to qualify.
As much as I’d love to participate in the mockery, it no longer carries the sting. At most, it just acidifies your conscience as you push yourself further into disgusting rhetoric. Do I find it cathartic? At times. However, none of this commentary is developing anything meaningful. Every time he says something dumb like how a pool is bigger than The Chrysler Building, we lose something in our global status. Even if he’s doing this because he knows it’s the material of memes, it’s pathetic because satire is skewering the power, not the other way around. Maybe that’s why I’ve been fascinated by video essays breaking down Tony Hinchcliffe’s recent Netflix special that, from what I can tell, has fewer laughs than a Neil Hamburger set. And I’m not talking about disagreeable jokes like modern Dave Chappelle. I can see the effort there. No, Hinchcliffe is speaking from a role of power and mocking the injustices of the world on a very surface level to the point I’m not sure how he got the green light from Netflix in the first place.
I’d love to say that we’re shifting into more agreeable topics, but the best I can give you is that I like Disclosure Day (2026) way more than unfunny racists. That’s not saying a lot, but then again I appreciate Steven Spielberg trying to make a film that centers around empathy and pushing past what divides the human race. It’s a noble quest, and I appreciate him making an original summer blockbuster that reaches for genuine spectacle and heart. If there’s an issue, it’s that I find the overall approach annoying and lacking anything substantial by the end. Even the action scenes feel bogged down by familiarity and a central plot device involving what I’ll just call telepathy that feels too much like a crutch to be provocative. Even if Josh O’Connor is having one of the greatest ascensions I’ve seen from a modern actor – I’ve also watched God’s Own Country (2017) and The History of Sound (2025) this year to very positive feedback – this does nothing substantial with him. One caveat I will make is that the John Williams score is excellent for his latter-day work and probably my favorite in many years.
To not just suggest I am anti-film right now, I want to briefly touch on Backrooms (2026). I’ve already written a full review weeks ago, but I am thrilled at the idea that this is the type of filmmaker we’re betting the farm on. Along with Obsession (2026), June’s biggest breakouts have been indie films from new voices that are bringing something new to genre cinema. I would love to see this translate to character dramas, but for now I will commend Kane Parsons on making a film that, even after deep thought, is something I’d call “spiritual.” He has made something that speaks not only to my insecurities, but to a larger sense of the American identity in the modern age, where culture is being constantly torn down without a care for what came before. It’s hard not to read that as a more generalized version of the malaise felt in The Substance (2024), where one day you’ll just be irrelevant and walking through life without purpose. Given that I heard older theater fans discuss this at a recent staging of Kimberly Akimbo, I knew we had something special on our hands.
Another reason I am intrigued by the construction of Backrooms is because of a line Chiwetel Ejiofor says midway through about how it feels like there’s an underground city. I’m sure this is commonplace elsewhere, but the week before, I was watching Huell Howser, and he visited Old Sacramento, where they discussed how they had a city underneath the pavement that they built a second level to in order to fight flooding. Sure, this was done out of practicality, but it makes you realize how much history is beneath your feet and how easy it is to extrapolate into a ghost story.
Then there was The Tony Awards. My surface-level answer is that I wasn’t a fan of almost anything besides Ragtime this year. While it’s true that very few cast recordings are actually circulating at the time of broadcast, I found the presentation to be a bit lacking. Excluding revivals, I was a bit put off by the fact that this was a very nostalgia-heavy year and even the big winner, Schmigadoon!, was just a parody of an older musical. There’s only so much self-aware humor that I could take, and despite being a fan of the AppleTV+ version, I never saw it needing to be more than a lark. Maybe that’s why I was rooting for Two Strangers Carry A Cake Across New York going into the night. It wasn’t an amazing album, but it had a central idea that seemed far more ambitious than parody. I will say that The Lost Boys might be my pick for most enjoyable performance of the night, but that’s also because it was the most thought out.
At the risk of upsetting people, I will say that I was not a fan of Pink and, based on prior comments, you can guess why I wasn’t a fan of the opening number. It felt very pandering and lazy to just crib Moulin Rouge with Mad Libs-style name drops. To finish off my complaints for the night… I am not a fan of Cats: The Jellicle Ball nor the revisionist history that this is what the show needed to be considered good. For a community that gets bent out of shape when you don’t have diverse representation, why are you against letting one show just not be for you? Why do you get caught up in the fact that because they don’t look like you, they can’t be interesting? I’m partially annoyed that this is probably the Cats I’ll end up seeing live one day, especially if they fuck with the choreography as much as the costuming. I know there’s a good defense against the changes, but seriously… theater is super gay. The Rocky Horror Show looked identical to The Jellicle Ball. Find somewhere else to make your ballroom history epic. Let us have one show about cats doing cartwheels and pirouettes.
Oddly enough, I don’t really have a lot of music opinions this month. Outside of the Sublime and Vince Staples albums that I wrote about, I didn’t really latch onto anything meaningful. You can ask how I felt about the new Olivia Rodrigo album, but you can easily dismiss my complaints of her coming across as insincere as me being old. Admittedly, it’s her best of the three and has moments that strike me as having sparks, but she’s too theater kiddy for me to find her angst and rebellion as something genuine.
So yes, I am having a wonderful summer and trying to stay busy. It’s a great time for baseball and softball. Along with the return of Banana Ball, I’ve been watching parts of The College World Series (that UCLA first round loss sure was fun) as well as finding curiosity to see if The AUSL has anything worth checking out. I do worry that it’s going to be like LOVB and be something that I want to indulge in but will constantly forget that it’s on or be in a state of burnout that keeps me from watching. Baseball and softball are, for me, social sports that demand external stimulation to get a satisfying experience. If you don’t have a buddy, I’m afraid a doubleheader will dull the senses.
It only feels right to also mention that Long Beach officially has a new team as well. I haven’t been to a game yet, but The Coast are the latest institution to land in my hometown. What’s fun is that they have “$2 Tuesdays” and on Fridays play as The Regulators. This is because one of the owners is Warren G, whose song “Regulate” clearly inspired the name choice. What’s funny is that Mr. G performed at the WNBA game I went to, and I had trouble telling if he was performing live or to a recording because half the audio sounded too rehearsed and other portions distorted. If I didn’t know the words to the song, I would’ve been lost the whole time.
Other than that, I have been enjoying my June by taking in the summer atmosphere. I’ve been trying to get out for more walks lately and just spend time soaking up the sun while reading Thomas Pynchon’s “Against the Day” (surprisingly breezy for an epic, at least compared to “Gravity’s Rainbow”). This also means that I’ve gone on more personal rendezvous with people and tried to avoid becoming stir crazy. Admittedly, that sometimes means just being lazy somewhere else, but I’m working on plans for the weeks to come. My birthday is not too far off, and there’s a decent chance that I’ll be celebrating not only with a basketball game, but by seeing Toy Story 5 (2026).
If I haven’t provided enough hot takes so far, let me just say that I prefer the last one to Toy Story 3 (2010) and think Forky is top tier Pixar. They’re all really good, and I keep getting tempted to rewatch them just to go down memory lane. Also… is this going to be what it takes for Taylor Swift to get an Oscar nomination? Given that Randy Newman received a spot for less, one can imagine the future that lies ahead for Bombalurina herself.
Anyway, I got The Bear to catch up on and prepare for the start of another month. I’m sure it will bring its own mysteries and give me new things to ponder over (new King of the Hill, more Castration Movie special features). For now, I’m happy to say that things are mostly going in the right direction for me. I’m in the middle of writing my next novel, and it’s going along at a rather successful clip. Fingers crossed that I don’t stumble over 2/3 of the way through this experience. Other than that, I’ll do my best to stay cool and make some memories. I hope the same can be said of you. Take care of yourself and catch a wave if that’s your thing.
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