I could complain about the unbearable heat wave we’re all pushing through right now, but I won’t. The thing that scares me most is how frequent and likely these days are going to be moving forward—a new normal. Last month, our air conditioning bill for a 600 sq ft apartment was $146. This is with me leaving only one of our two units on during the week, and turning them up while I’m away (I tried to turn them off completely during the day, but our food was spoiling and our plants were dying).
Yesterday we stayed inside, but were surprised that all of our neighbors seemed to have been turned out of their buildings en masse. Lawn chairs and tents were set up in the park across the street. The fire hydrant caps were broken and water spewed powerfully. They stayed out all day, and only went inside when it started to rain.
Today, we finally ventured outside with a reward in mind. We met up with my friend John—an ice cream expert—to sample the offerings at an ice cream festival on the Upper West Side. John tried no fewer than 5—FIVE—ice creams, while David and I managed two each. Even with cold, flavorful treats, we sweated right through our clothes.
I realize it’s nihilistic, but sometimes I think our eventual extinction seems like a pretty fair price to pay for what we’ve done to the planet in the name of progress. A hot day seems like the least of our eventual worries.
“DoorDash offers a guaranteed minimum for each job. For my first order, the guarantee was $6.85 and the customer, a woman in Boerum Hill who answered the door in a colorful bathrobe, tipped $3 via the app. But I still received only $6.85.
Here’s how it works: If the woman in the bathrobe had tipped zero, DoorDash would have paid me the whole $6.85. Because she tipped $3, DoorDash kicked in only $3.85. She was saving DoorDash $3, not tipping me.”
My Frantic Life as a Cab-Dodging, Tip-Chasing Food App Deliveryman, New York Times
First, of all, who are all of these trash people not tipping their delivery people? Second, this is not a sustainable system of human labor. I try not to use delivery services like these, and when there is no alternative, I tip well—very well. If something looks too good to be true, it’s probably because it is. Having food, groceries, and whatever else delivered to your door quickly, safely, and cheaply, is definitely too good to be true.
“Cities have effectively traded away their children, swapping capital for kids. College graduates descend into cities, inhale fast-casual meals, emit the fumes of overwork, get washed, and bounce to smaller cities or the suburbs by the time their kids are old enough to spell.
The modern American city is not a microcosm of life but a microslice of it. It’s becoming an Epcot theme park for childless affluence, where the rich can act like kids without having to actually see any.”
The Future of the City Is Childless, Citylab
There is a lot to unpack with this piece. As a currently childless person, it felt like there was a pretty substantial bias here, but what the piece ultimately seeks to map out is that the problem of childless cities is one of equity.
I’ve been on a streak of abandoning books recently—which isn’t usually my style—but life is too short, eh?
What went into the abandoned pile? My Wife in the Psych Ward (needed a better editor), and A Walk Through Paris (probably a great read for someone more intimately acquainted with the city).
One book I can’t put down is the August selection for the WNYC book club, A Gentleman in Moscow. Frankly, I wasn’t sure how they were going to keep my attention for 462 pages when the protagonist is not allowed to leave the hotel, but then I remembered loving another story set entirely in a hotel and decided to give it a chance.
David and I have started a new tradition—or rather, I should say I’ve let David in on an old tradition—which is morning movies at the nearby theater. I love going to the first show of the day, just after my morning coffee and eggs; there tends to be a more diverse audience of ardent movie goers, the tickets are cheaper (a movie ticket in New York currently averages $17 for an evening showing), and I’m less likely to go-to-town on Junior Mints and popcorn.
This weekend we saw The Farewell. About 25 minutes in, I was openly weeping (i.e. sobbing), and the rest of the film didn’t let up either. I left the theater with makeup streaked tear stains. Run to see this movie.
Grantchester is back and they’re replacing the lovely James Norton (no surprise, that star was on the rise after Happy Valley) with a new “hot priest.” And frankly I was offended: You can’t just replace a well-loved character of 4 seasons with a new hot version with just ONE episode as a transition. But reader: They did. And I am as shallow as they guessed, because while hot priest will never be as good as James Norton, he is still infinitely watchable.
Haven’t watched Happy Valley, you say? Go rectify that immediately.
Last weekend I visited Tail Up Goat, with my friend Jenna, for the first time in awhile. They have a Michelin star now, but that hasn’t seemed to change them much. For summertime, they have an entire wine list dedicated to Riesling, a wine that, frankly, I had always found to be over-sweet. I decided to trust in the very knowledgeable bartender and ended up with the 2010 “Würtzberg” from Weingut Würtzberg in Saar, Germany, a bright, tart, almost cider-like experience. I can’t wait to go back soon.
When I’m not getting my fill of peaches, berries, and plums, a riff on this spicy peanut noodle dish has been a good summertime fix. I used this sauce, but then added baked tofu, steamed broccoli, and edamame to the dish. The prep takes a little time (baking the tofu, steaming the broccoli), but once those are done, this dish whips up quickly and was something I ate all week long.
Just a reminder that if you want to get these delivered to your inbox, you can do that below.