Issue 26: Strange rituals

You probably don't want this to be your post-religious third place.

Dearest reader,

I trust this letter finds you as it leaves me, in good health. Like last week, I’m writing this letter while traveling. Unlike last week, this week I’m traveling to see family, which means I’m compelled to be less specific about where I’ll be and what I’ll be up to. I’m currently seated by the right-side window of an airplane, mildly caffeinated, debating whether or not it was wise of me to eat that airport sandwich before boarding, whether my stomach will eventually forgive me, and in a kind of dazed, contemplative state—while, as you may have already been astute to observe—searching with little luck for things to contemplate.

And so I will talk to you specifically about this sandwich which is weighing so heavily on my thoughts. While eating it, I was sitting at the far right edge of a long, low, wooden table in the middle of one of those airport lounges—the kind of place where all of the spongy, self-important travelers of the world apparently love to congregate. To my left was a portly pale man eating some breakfast with his champagne, and to my right an elderly women scrolling Instagram with the most upright of postures, spectacles half down her nose, face wrinkled but impeccably painted, hands outstretched and eyes squinting downwards. She frowned, slightly, as though the images rolling down before her were the most profound of concepts. From a distance, you might’ve been excused for assuming she was grading a law school entry exam by hand, perhaps, or proof-reading some new piece of legislation we probably wouldn’t understand.

In other news, I picked up this SM7B last weekend and have been using it every day this week. It’s cool to finally be able to sing and play keys at the same time, while recording.

Amidst this swirling masquerade, I walked to the coffee stand, filled a cup, sat down at the table, and pulled out my laptop. There was something on my mind, a task lingering from last night, which I wanted to clear. And so, laptop in front of me, coffee to my right, I joined my fellow Birkenstock sandal, all-caps faded college T-shirt, negroni-for-breakfast American tribe in this tradition of glancing downwards, bustling about amongst ourselves, appearing occupied.

I hope you have a brilliant, rejuvenating weekend ahead of you.

Love,
Reef