Barry

There was (apparently) a barred owl in New York that drew the attention of people because of her (researchers said it was a her) comfort with humans. She died last week, and the New York Times published a really lovely story about what she meant to the community. 

It's not every day you read a moving tribute to an owl. But I highly recommend. (Also: The photo of her gazing at her reflection is sublime.) 

Read the comments

I always go into a comment section with apprehension. But seeing this as the first one on a story I wrote this week made me smile so big:

"I knew I'd love this article after the first sentence."

It had multiple likes, too. And as nice as it is to get feedback from strangers, it was even greater to hear from friends and colleagues who thought it was good. Hooray.

Pool

I participate in an annual pool with a group of friends, acquaintances and strangers. And today I learned I'm tied for first! It goes until the end of the year, so there's plenty of time for others to pass me. But for now, it was nice.

And I have several friends who are interested in the standings, so it gave me an excuse to reach out and check in.

Newsrooms

There's a lot happening today, and it's maybe not something that makes me smile -- but man, am I grateful right now for all the big news days when I've been able to be in a newsroom. No matter the newsroom, it's a group of thoughtful, engaged, curious people who are willing to talk about the biggest happenings of the moment. 

I'm missing it right now, in month seven of working from home, but not in the same way I did when I was home on an election night (for example). Then, I knew the conversations were happening and I was not part of them. Sure, there are conversations happening all over the country. But very few of them are the newsroom conversations I long for. It's not that I'm left out of them. They don't exist. (At least not in my newsroom, today.)

So I'm grateful for all the times I could turn to the reporter next to me and raise my eyebrows and point and begin a tirade or a winding conversation that would inevitably end up somewhere unexpected. I hope I get to have that again. I don't expect it to be soon.

In the meantime: What a hell of a day. What a week. What a year.

Obsessed

I am in love with this batch of five parrots that were all swearing and laughing at each other in a giant, recurring stew. 

'He is and he does'

This story about vanity license plates in California is funny in and of itself. You should read it and giggle.

My favorite one is someone who requested the plate "TUNAFSH" with the explanation that he is a fisherman who travels to fish for tuna, and would like people to know that via his vehicle.

"I Googled him," the DMV says. "He is and he does."

Still, they rejected it. Poor fisherman!

'Please scream inside your heart'

The Wall Street Journal has this most amazing article on Tokyo Disney reopening. In it, we learn that people who ride the roller coasters... are not allowed to scream.

Because screaming spreads droplets, which spread disease.

But what's a roller coaster without a shriek? The CEO and another top exec rode stone-faced, to prove it could be done.

And they urged patrons to "Please scream inside your heart."

So ridiculous and so very good.

Obits

I always hate having to write an obituary, because it means there are people who are mourning. But there's something so powerful about writing them, too. You are often the last word on someone's life.

I'm glad, today, that I was able to write one to memorialize someone who touched so many people. And I was glad to help people process grief, remember a loved one and smile while they recalled certain memories. It's lousy, but it's good.

Dairy princess

Everything about this story, regarding the butter-carved busts of decades of Dairy Princesses at the Minnesota State Fair, delights me more than I can begin to tell you.

So let me call out just one part.

“I think any time you can see a butter princess sculpted out of butter is a good day,” said Karal Ann Marling, the author of “Blue Ribbon: A Social and Pictorial History of the Minnesota State Fair.”

Ms. Marling said she had always been mesmerized by the skill required to turn a block of butter into a realistic bust in front of a crowd of curious onlookers.

“The hard part of it for me is you won’t be able to eat any of the tailings that come off when you’re sculpting,” Ms. Marling said. “That was always my favorite part.”

How can you not want to read more?

Better yet -- this year, you can watch from home! I plan to.

Why yes, he is

I got an email today from someone whose email address included the phrase "he's retired now" (minus the apostrophe, of course) and I thought it was delightful.

I also got a TON of emails from people who had questions or opinions or weren't happy with work-related things. When I replied to them, many of them said thank you. One told me he appreciated my professional response. One became a daylong exchange. And only one replied telling me "bullshit." It could have been so many more!

Plus, one led to an email exchange with a higher-up that made me smile, too.

T-shirt

I got a package in the mail today, when I wasn't expecting one. That's always a nice thing. When I opened it, I was surprised to see that it was from my employer -- they made T-shirts to send to us, with a note to say we're appreciated.

And it's a little corny, but they definitely didn't have to do that. So it made me smile.

Mr. Mac

I learned today that one of my favorite high school teachers died. I had him for at least three classes, and my siblings had him, too. He came to know my family, and he was a sort of legend, at least to me. A jolly Santa Claus-type, with a glass eye and a booming voice, he always had a story (or several) to regale you with. I still remember one about belly dancing and driving during an Atlanta ice storm, and tales of Alaska. He offered to chauffeur students to their weddings in a fancy car.

I was glad to see that we corresponded a little after I graduated. It's been many years, but I have a couple emails in my mailbox. And I learned a little more about him in his obituary -- he liked trains, and had a collection.

I don't know that I ever would have managed to reach out again. But I'm glad to be thinking of him. He had an impact, and his presence in the world will be missed.

Old friends

Through this whole global pandemic thing, three friends and I have had a weekly phone call. We started out taking a Coursera class together, and as the class wound down, we started asking important questions of each other. It's led to long, thoughtful, winding conversations with people I respect and trust and know I can be vulnerable and wrong around, and I really appreciate that.

Favorite teachers

I came across the name of one of my favorite teachers today -- he's on the board of an organization I get emails from (apparently). While normally the names of the board members aren't part of the correspondence, there was something about the latest COVID-19 update that got a list of names at the bottom.

I texted a friend who'd also had him, and she told me she'd been thinking about him yesterday, for unrelated reasons. It was nice to have that moment of connection.

And it made me think about the on-a-piece-of-paper lectures he'd hand out for us to read, and the one time they came with cake. Plus the time he broke a desk by banging on it to wake someone up, and the story about dyeing his hair green and plenty of instances from As I Lay Dying or The Old Man and the Sea.

You're so vain

Because how great is this, from a story about a town overrun by peacocks?

"He showed the crowd a photo of a city employee’s Toyota Prius that had deep scratches on all sides. He said the peacocks see their reflection on the side of the car, mistake it for a rival and attack with their beaks."

The breeze

It's gotten warm lately, but there's a chill in the air today and it's so nice to feel the breeze through my open window, even though I'm still indoors.

Also - I don't know that this is happy, per se - but I was really pleased to see this well-deserved takedown of the company line at The Plain Dealer. The owners are doing some really lousy things right now, and getting away with it. I'm glad it isn't also going on under the radar.

Work

My job has periodic weekend shifts and I worked one of them today. It was quiet, as far as those things go. But I'm thinking today more about gratitude than happiness. And in the midst of this ridiculous time, I'm grateful for my job, even after a Sunday shift.

I talked to another reporter friend today whose employer is laying people off and I've seen plenty of it in the industry. Journalism is not steady and likely won't be for some time -- if at all. But for the time being, I'm not worried about losing my job each day and that really means a lot.

This evening, I interviewed someone who's seen a lot of impact from the coronavirus. We talked for an hour and we'll talk again. And I'm grateful to her, and plenty of others over the years, for trusting me with her story.

Lost in time

Remember how I told you I was thinking of Billy Pilgrim coming unstuck in time? I am apparently not the only one who is having a hard time with when we are.

As such, I was very amused to learn I am not the only one who needs help with when it is. (Watch the clip! Then go to the thread and watch the next one! Day Two is even better than Day One.) Thank you, TV news, for that assistance.

I don't know that they're representing Cleveland well, but they are representing Cleveland. And it gives me a fabulous excuse to link back to this, from the same station, about a neighborhood bear sighting.

It never doesn't make me laugh. Thanks, TV news, for some levity (at least mostly intended).

It does matter

Text from a friend today:

"Just read an article you wrote ... and it made me unreasonably happy to see your name on the byline."

It's a stressful time (you may have noticed) and work is kind of crazy right now. So it made me unreasonably happy to know that stories were being read, and read by people I know who are appreciating the work. Thanks, friend. It meant a lot.

Letters

Well, now. This blog started in the depths of the Recession, then has gotten precious little use in the subsequent years. But global pandemic and the anxiety that comes with it seems like a pretty good time to dust it off and find those things to smile about again -- no?

I can at least try to be more active here.

On day eight of working from home and day seven of not leaving the house (and if we're being honest, before that) I started to think about Billy Pilgrim, and how he came unstuck in time. I wrote an essay on that book (it was bad) and in trying to find it, I pulled out a box of letters I'd saved.

One was from a friend from high school upon my graduation, telling me about the first year of college and telling me if we didn't keep in touch, it had been nice to be friends. Luckily, we still do -- and I could send her a picture of the card so she could marvel at how neat her handwriting had once been.

I also grabbed a stack of letters from a camp friend who had become a middle school pen pal. We'd fallen out of touch in high school, but reconnected a decade later -- give or take -- when I moved back to Cleveland. I sent her some pictures, too. We may try that pen pal thing again.

It's nice not just to have the jolt of nostalgia, but also to have a reason to reach out to those friends (both of whom I'd been talking to in recent days anyway). It made me smile to see the evolution in each of them, and I hope it made them smile to see them, too.