And We’re Back, Detours And All, Or, Saturday Morning at 10:30am

We never got to Norway.

Let me back up. When last we spoke, I was taking August off to, among other things, travel via Denmark to Sweden for a family wedding and then swing through Norway with my middle sister. But my sister caught COVID (despite masking) on the flight over, and I caught it from her in a car ride from Copenhagen to Sjöbo.

Our trip was not as bad as it sounds. For one thing, Copenhagen was beautiful, especially in the late, late twilight.

Nor did either of us have a full-on misery case, although we were both definitely ill. And cancelling your plans to hit up Norway’s most touristed destination (Flåm, on Sognefjord) to spend instead a few days in a random small town in bucolic Scandinavia with a sister, is nice in its own way,

even when you wind up waiting for a taxi in the parking lot outside a Thai restaurant next to an auto showroom. Or perhaps especially then. Never underestimate the opportunity to laugh at ridiculous British reality TV. Escape To The Chateau, anyone?

(By the way, as an example of trusting your gut, other than some kitten heel sinkage that orange dress and gold booties would have been perfect for the wedding. No fault to anyone; the decision required knowledge of context which only I had.) Evidence below.

Yes, I made it to the wedding the night before I tested positive. The Swedes’ position on COVID, as explained to me, is that they are all vaccinated, and they treat it like a cold. I followed their lead. It was a beautiful spot, a beautiful ceremony, and a great big wonderful party that everyone seemed to really enjoy.

On our way back to the Copenhagen airport, my sister and I spent one night in Malmö, and ate out on the sidewalk. So Swedish. Fish, shrimp, lemon and a potato.

Norway is for another day. And maybe we’ll find our way far north, for more of those moments of everyday life that are small and nevertheless wholly novel.

Now here we all are, looking at kids back in school, autumn, Hallowe’en, Thanksgiving, Christmas. And, should we forget, a critical election. I will be registering college students to vote in inland California, under the philosophy that action is the best cure for anxiety.

Glad to be back. Let me leave you for today with a few cool things.

First, the opportunity to see a concert version of Female Complaints, the musical about the compelling and relevant life of Inez Brown Burns, Tina deVaron (my classmate from college), has been developing with Kate Mully.

Second, I’ve been watching a stelevision show and really enjoying it. No, it’s neither a delicious rom-com, nor a deeply-felt, minutely-0bserved human drama. Snowpiercer, now on Amazon Prime, follows the last of the human race, and the train that may or may not allow them to survive their own worst traits. Why this show? 1) Boon Boo-Ho, the artist responsible for Oscar-winning Parasite, directed the movie it’s based on he remains executive producer. 2) The cast includes the blindingly charismatic Daveed Diggs of Hamilton, Micky Sumner, daughter of Trudy Styles and Sting who is very  extra-talented in her own right, and Jennifer Connelly, who is a star for good reasons.  3) All of this makes the show compelling, and in this day and age, if I’m going to watch something I want to be fully engaged. It’s by no means universally loved, but I stand by my recommendation.

Finally, my son has released a limited edition of his artwear on Patsport/Summon-Elemental. My favorite piece is, appropriately, entitled, “Last.” Last as in the last one? Or last, as in endure? I don’t think there’s a better way to know modernity than to pull some ambiguity over your head. Wear this over that oversized white shirt you bought last summer. Or that little black dress you’ve grown weary of.

Nice to see you all again. Have a very good weekend.

The post And We’re Back, Detours And All, Or, Saturday Morning at 10:30am appeared first on Privilege.