Category: Life

  • Short Story Review: “Floating” by Souvankham Thammavongsa

    (The short story “Floating” by Souvankham Thammavongsa appeared in the March 30th, 2026 issue of The New Yorker.)

    Illustration by Julien Posture

    Dating sucks. I think there are very few Universal Truths out there, and that’s one of them; Dating, on the whole, is not a pleasurable experience. When dating works, it’s unbelievable, exciting, fulfilling, and all the other words that poets have shared for hundreds of years. But of all the unfun things that dating can conjure up in a person, the not knowing where you stand with the other person is damn near the worst. Souvankham Thammavongsa’s “Floating” tackles that feeling of uncertainty when it comes to meeting someone new, and though it is a charming piece, it does seem to trip over its own feet at the end.

    I say charming because the piece feels as if it is coming from a very authentic place for the protagonist. She is waiting to give a talk in front of people, when a gentleman strikes up a conversation with her. They have a mutual friend, and he suggests that they should all get dinner together. We learn that the protagonist has gotten out of a bad marriage, and has some additional baggage with her family, which lends credence to her hesitation and the guard she puts up with this new man. But soon, he starts to become a bit of mystery. He has to travel for many months, and their possible connection is delayed. Soon, she starts to learn new things about him that don’t totally add up, and bring into question his motivations and intentions. All of this leads the story to create that feeling of instability that only dating, or the hope of dating, can create in a person, which makes all of this relatable.

    I am a fan of stories that are about characters dealing with a situation they’re never fully able to understand. The example I always use is the film “Picnic at Hanging Rock” which is about people dealing with the mystery of what happed at a picnic. “Floating” is that type of story; the protagonist is never able to unravel the mystery of this man, and must come to terms with that. And when I said that the story trips over its own feet, I say that because she doesn’t make a decision at the end of the story. I admit that I might be splitting hairs here, but there is a difference in “floating” because one didn’t make a choice, and “floating” because one is choosing to wait and see. One is passive, the other is active and has agency. Even with an attempted “Dead Chick in the Basket”* ending to conclude the piece, the protagonist chooses to be passive, and though that might be the most realistic decision in this situation, for a short story, it’s not a satisfying narrative conclusion.

    *“Dead Chick in the Basket” refers to a story device wherein the final paragraph of a short story contains new information about a character which is meant to make the reader view the actions, statements, or feelings of that character in a different light. The first known use of this device was in J.D. Salinger’s short story “Just Before the War with the Eskimos.”

  • Earworm Wednesday: You Can’t Fight This Song

    I was about to say that I’m not a big Elton John fan, in the sense that I have never owned one of his albums, but I would never deny that he is one of the giants of rock/pop music. Then I did a search on some of my Spotify playlists, and Nearly everyone has an Elton John song on it.

    Which brings me to “Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting” which might not be Elton’s best song, but it is a great song. When I first heard it, I thought it was more cheesy than anything else. Yet, this song drills into your head. For me, it’s the guitar hook at the start, and the chorus of “SATURDAY!” being chanted over and over again.

  • When Was the Last Time You Felt Rested?

    The wife asked me that yesterday morning. We both hadn’t slept well the night before. She kept tossing and turning, while I just couldn’t fall asleep. The result was two adults that felt tired. Hence why she asked that question; when was the last time I felt fully rested.

    I wanted to say the last vacation we took, but I know that’s not true. Even when we do get away, even for a few days, I can’t help but wake up when I normally would during the week. So it’s like even when I want to sleep, my body won’t let me.

    On the weekends, we take turns sleeping in. She gets to sleep in on Saturday, and I get to sleep in on Sunday. But saying that we get to “sleep in” is a bit of a stretch. See, when one gets up early, what that really means is that the other can continue lying in bed. Sometimes you fall back asleep after the other one gets up, but most likely, you just lay there in bed looking at your phone.

    Which gets back to the question, full rested? When was that?

    It wasn’t my forties, because the kid. I love her, but between her waking us up, and the general worry that comes with being a parent – no rest here.

    My thirties? That was the decade of establishing my career, so no resting to be found there.

    My twenties? Who rested in their twenties? I know I didn’t. Lots of late nights and early mornings, and I don’t think I would trade any of them for anything.

    So, the last time I felt rested was when I was a teenager, and slept in till noon every weekend, and took a nap after school every day. Yeah, that’s my guess, and I want to say that guess is completely wrong. I was teenage angsty worn out. No rested to be found there.

    So, my honest guess is twelve. When I was twelve, and only had to watch cartoons, ride my bike, and not fail a grade.

    I guess what I am trying to say is that I think the next time I will feel rested will be retirement.

    And I really hope it’s retirement.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Who Are These People?, I Have Hope Again, and NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament

    ODDS and ENDS: Who Are These People?, I Have Hope Again, and NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament

    (Of course you’re not shy…)

    I don’t spend much time on Facebook anymore, ever since my nieces and nephews told me that only old people go on that site. As I am clearly not an old person, I have stayed away from Facebook. Except for the daily check in I do, because I need to check in and see what the other old people are up to. There is a section on Facebook I generally skip over and it’s the “People You May Know” part. Today, I decided to flip though it to see if I might know any of them. And I get what the algorithm is trying to do, which is connect people to me that my other “friends” know, so inherently, most of these people I won’t know. But, going through the list, I started to play the game of “Do I know this person, because they look familiar?” I would see a face, then ask myself, did I take a class with this person in college? Or, did I do a show with this person? Or, did I work with this person? Honestly, I can’t remember anymore, which made me feel old. Which is fitting as only old people go on Facebook.

    Stupid Tottenham Hotspur on Wednesday went on beat Atlético Madrid at Tottenham. Sure, they did lose the on aggregate and are out of the Champions League now, but they won a match at home. And the whole team looked like they gave a shit. Which now means that they went out and gave all of us supports the feeling that hope was alive. That on Sunday when they face off against Nottingham Forest, another team fighting not to be relegated, that we have a Spurs team to root for. A team that doesn’t want to be embarrassed. A team that is willing to dig deep and fight to the final whistle. And just when I had written the club off, now I have to go back to caring again.

    Oh, my bracket is shot to hell. Not awful, but I did make some really bad picks. My problem with making a bracket for the tournament is that I will always pick the underdog. Sometimes it works out really well, making it look like I knew something that everyone else didn’t. Like how I picked TCU, VCU, Texas A&M, Texas, and Saint Louis. Of the first 16 games, I had picked 7 upsets. Maybe not the most logical system for picking winners, but I can’t deny who I am. I like giant killers.

  • Earworm Wednesday: It’s That Song From That Cartoon!

    I will admit that “Me and My Arrow” by Harry Nilsson re-entered my life this week due to a Spotify generated playlist, not from my own music knowledge. And if you don’t know, this song is part of a cartoon that Nilsson created and wrote in 1970 called The Point! I remember seeing it on cable, sometime in the 80’s, and what stuck with me about the show was the wise man, or dude, who tells the hero that, “not having a point, is a point.” That little piece of philosophical logic has stuck with me my whole life.

    As to the song, “Me and My Arrow,” when I heard it this week, it struck me as familiar, but I couldn’t place it. I had to look it up, and I think where I truly remember it from is an episode of The Simpsons that used it. But when I read it was from the cartoon The Point!, then it all came back to me. Just a little gem of my childhood. And I had no idea that the great Harry Nilsson was responsible for it all.

    Oh, and what just stuck in my head is the whole thing. I’ve been humming it all week.