February is the worst

Plus 10 Great Things, including Eddie Vedder, forgotten sausage, and the keyboard setting that changed reggae

The exhausted-looking man above is Kevin Killeen, a reporter for KMOX radio in St. Louis. This week on social media, somebody resurrected a video he did six years ago about the month of February. It’s perfect.

There are so many great lines that I almost transcribed the whole thing.

“It’s a month that doesn’t hold up life any better than it really is.”

“Something great happened here but it’s over with. And that’s the way February is.”

“This looks like a place where people who are being punished are sent.”

“Even the land is tired in February. Most of the birds who can afford it have gone to Florida.”

“Something that’s been bothering you for a long time is out there. What is it? You can almost see the shape of it.”

This is the way I’ve always felt about February. It’s a month to be endured, a month to curl up in the corner and wait for it to be over. The most bitter winds come in February. The house is always cold. The fall is a long-ago memory, and March is too far to reach.

I’ve been thinking a lot since COVID set in about the downside of just gritting your teeth and toughing things out. I tend to plow through headaches and anxieties because I have DEADLINES and GOALS and everything in the way is just a hurdle to get around. But that’s just dumb. We’re all living with this low hum of COVID stress on top of all the normal stress in our lives. The entire last two years have felt like one long February. And now, dammit, it actually IS February.

It’s OK to be exhausted. It’s OK to feel sarcastic as the bitter wind blows. Sometimes the only way to deal with February is to laugh at it. I hear chili also helps.

10 things I wanted to share this week:

1. My other Substack post this week was a new project I’m starting: reading the old books that have been sitting on my shelf. I would love it if y’all joined in. In the comments, gifted reader Steven mentioned the Japanese concept of tsunduko — the habit of buying books and never reading them. Maybe we should call this the Death To Tsunduko Project?

2. My weekly for WFAE was about the tragic death of a pageant queen, and the birth of a mental-health center in Charlotte.

3. This Jennifer Senior story on how friendships die — and how to keep them alive — is going to stick with me a long time. It was like an arrow to the heart. And a reminder to not be so damn slack about reaching out.

4. David Marchese’s Q&As for the New York Times are almost always must-reads. I especially enjoyed this one with Eddie Vedder — especially the part where Vedder turns the tables and starts asking the questions.

5. DOG TIME: As I work on my book on the Westminster Dog Show, I’ll share dog-related items in this slot on the countdown. This week, as suggested by gifted reader Ed Williams: Mary Oliver’s poem “Percy and Books.”

Percy does not like it when I read a book.
He puts his face over the top of it, and moans.
He rolls his eyes, sometimes he sneezes.
The sun is up, he says, and the wind is down.
The tide is out, and the neighbor’s dogs are playing.
But Percy, I say, Ideas! The elegance of language!
The insights, the funniness, the beautiful stories
that rise and fall and turn into strength, or courage.
Books? says Percy. I ate one once, and it was enough. Let’s go.

6. I’d never heard of the show MEATEATER until I read this profile of its host, Steven Rinella. It’s a story about how a hit show is made, and also about how hunting and fishing is one way to be an environmentalist.

7. John T. Edge and some buddies, for Garden & Gun, go off in search of sack sausage.

8. The delightful story of the Japanese reggae fan who ended up creating the Casio keyboard preset that changed reggae forever.

9. The oral history of one of my favorite records of the ‘90s — Jack Logan’s sprawling lo-fi double album BULK. I still find myself, from time to time, humming “A New Used Car and a Plate of Bar-B-Que.”

10. Don’t forget, Monday is Valentine’s Day. There’s never a bad day to tell the ones you love that you love them.

If you totally botch it, Steve Earle might be able to help.