2022's Diversions & Distractions
Books, music, tv, and stuff that provided me content comfort in a year of transition
I recently did the math. Eight moves in 13 years. Seventeen moves over a lifetime. That’s a lot upheaval. And free liquor store boxes.
Oh man, moving is such a headache. Well…yeah it is. But it’s more than a cumbersome task, obese expense, and pizza served on crates. Moving is the complete undoing of familiarity, the ambiguity of alien places, and serious emotional horseplay. It’s the loss of friends and support systems. It’s also exciting as all heck once you’ve developed the packing-tape-protected skin I’ve grown.
Calgary, Toronto, rural Brazil, Vancouver…every landing brought trepidation, yet every take-off began with me kicking-and-screaming to stay. Such is the ephemeral nature of life.
The biggest move, it seems, was just recently. Summer, 2022. Not the farthest move from Vancouver, but the biggest, in the sense of amassed possessions and the rocky trip by ocean to another landmass (even if it’s a one-hour ferry ride). Our new small town on Vancouver Island was a weighty shift; it teleported me to equal parts weirdness and wonder. Deep isolation and slow willingness. And strangely, it feels like I’m here to stay.
Never was there a year where content comfort was so needed. I ostriched myself in books, podcasts, music, and seasons of TV streams. Now I’m itchy to share them — the ubiquitous hits and the personal crushes.
Of everything I managed to chew through, here are just some of the crackerjacks that resonated most:
Bookie-wooks
Reading shouldn’t be stressful, but I suffer from serious bookstack anxiety. I buy, collect, and borrow so many piles of the things, I fret about finishing books to the point of panic. This year I did alright, managing 54 titles…but remember, I’m new in a small town. On an island. Shifting careers and freelancing. I had the time.
As a sucker for current reviews and lists, I tackled a lot of new releases this round. They ranged from the otherworldly Sea of Tranquility by Emily St. John Mandel and The Candy House by Jennifer Egan…to the crazy-creative fiction of Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin, Cult Classic by Sloane Crosley, Trust by Hernan Diaz, Crossroads by Jonathan Franzen, and Now Is Not the Time to Panic by Kevin Wilson…to the crime worlds inside Empire of Pain by Patrick Radden Keefe, Vancouver Vice by Aaron Chapman, and Last Call by Elon Green…to music bios of Shane MacGowan, XTC, and the surprisingly moving memoir, Surrender: 40 Songs, One Story by Mr. Bono.
What rock n’ rolled me most? The poetic dive into death and love that is Lost & Found by New Yorker writer Kathryn Schulz, and Douglas Stuart’s two masterpieces — the Booker Prize-winning Shuggie Bain and last year’s Young Mungo. His brutal, unflinching, and sometimes comical portrayals of working class Scotland, growing up queer, and the depths of family alcoholism still linger for me. I’ve only been to Scotland for a measly week, yet in reading Stuart’s prose, I feel like I grew up in 80s Glasgow, right alongside Shuggie and Mungo.
Streams of stuff
There’s not much I can add to the collective conversation about the unanimously-lauded TV shows of 2022— but damn if chain-smoking some them didn’t ease insomniac nights and uncertain days. Succession, The Rehearsal, Under the Banner of Heaven, Severance, The Righteous Gemstones, Winning Time, Barry, The Dropout, and Ozark (despite its crappy conclusion) all upped some level of visual storytelling at their bingeable best.
But sometimes an actor meets a next-level project and confetti shoots from the screen. Big shout-outs (cuz I know they’re reading this) to Jennifer Coolidge in The White Lotus, Sharon Horgan and Eve Hewson in Bad Sisters, Bridget Everett in Somebody, Somewhere, Jeremy Allen White in The Bear, and Claire Danes in Fleishman is in Trouble, which was meticulously-adapted for television from one of my favourite novels of 2019.
On Repeat…
Each year, I wedge a few new discoveries into my stubborn repeat-rotation. 2022 delivered new — and new to me — releases from Big Thief, Black Country New Road, Florist, Delvon Lamarr Organ Trio, and Aldous Harding.
I also listened to a criminal amount of Laura Harding, Waxahachee, and the new mixes of Let It Be and Revolver.
But new records from the artists I love get biased listens. This time, I mean it when I feel these late-career releases are some of their best. The Boy Named If finds Elvis Costello in top form, pulling out all his stops with old school rockers, soaring vocals, and heady wordplay. And what some wrote off as an indulgent countrified tangent, Wilco’s Cruel Country is a slow grower about a nation losing its way and the hope to come. Hearing it live just put a stamp on it.
Yakety Yak
Driving, hiking, and wandering lost around Vancouver Island allows me to chip away at my perpetual podcast list. There were big ideas from The Ezra Klein Show, How to Build a Happy Life, and Decoder Ring. Obsessive joke dissections in Vulture’s Good One, Mike Birbigula’s Working it Out, and Scott Dikker’s How To Write Funny. Creative advice in Writing Excuses, What Should I Read Next?, and The Shit No One Tells You About Writing. Stellar storytelling from The Moth, Sweet Bobby, Bone Valley, and The Outlaw Ocean. Frequent check-ins with Fresh Air, Pop Culture Happy Hour, and Conan O’Brien. There’s way too much talk out there, but my ears were happy with my choices.
Second Helpings
Yeah, I’ll be writing about food between all the essays, music, books, and culture in this newsletter. My 2022 edible discoveries include the coolest (and cutest?) Chinatown nestled inside Victoria BC, kewpie mayo, my new farmer friend putting me on his weekly egg list, Lao Gan Ma chilli crisp, having an inside ‘spot prawn guy’, and my longtime DQ “invention” that the town’s local manager is considering making a thing – Peanut Buster Parfait, half the fudge, swap nuts for layers of Skor crumble. Seriously, try it.
The Gurus
Cutting through the noise of today’s McInspiration industry isn’t easy. But last year, I hunkered down with three writers/thinkers/seekers who proved to be trusted elders in, well…livin’ and shit. And every time I leaned into their reflections, I came out more curious, a bit more selfless, and momentarily tuned into something bigger.
So I hung onto them — writer George Saunders and his quest for kindness in a cruel world, Harvard Professor of ‘Happiness’ (for real) Arthur C. Brooks on how to build a good life, and rockstar Franciscan priest Richard Rohr, whose liberal and compassionate wisdom nudges us toward the true self. Rohr makes an old saying ring: religion is for those who are afraid of going to hell, spirituality is for those who have already been there.
The sketch I (sadly) watch (almost) daily
Yes, it was the year of Kids in the Hall, whose new Prime Series shouldn’t be watched less than twice. But it’s former SNL writer Tim Robinson’s absurdist Netflix series I Think You Should Leave that’s required viewing in our household. The Diner Wink sketch features Bob Odenkirk in tinted glasses escalating his reality of “ice cream stores” a poster wife, and classic cars. Nothing bests this. Watch it three times, because, as Bob says here, “triples is best.”