In a fog
Meaning in the mist, plus my weekly recommendations: An NFL superstar's regrets, the origin of Marjorie Taylor Greene, and an unexpectedly faithful cover
A quick announcement before we get started: As a published author, I am obligated by law to remind you that my book, THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM, is available for your holiday purchases. I’ll be honest here … I’m not sure it’s a great Christmas gift. It’s a memoir about my life as an overweight guy, and if you’re giving it to someone else who’s overweight, tread lightly. However: January is what they call “new year, new you” season, and it might be a thoughtful gift around then, for someone you care about … or maybe for you. Let me know if you have any questions and I’ll be glad to help.
A couple of mornings this week, here in Charlotte, we had fog. We don’t get much fog here, and it’s never real thick when it comes. I grew up on coastal Georgia fog, the kind that makes the drive to work a white-knuckler, the kind where you expect Sherlock Holmes to appear, watching for the hound of the Baskervilles.
This Charlotte fog had its own texture—clear enough to see through, but blurring all the edges. To be honest, it looked the way I feel most of the time.
I love the National Geographic description: “Fog is a cloud that touches the ground.” One of the symbols we like to use when we’re overwhelmed is the image of a juggler trying to keep too many balls in the air. But after a while I realized the image isn’t quite right. It’s more like when you’re just learning to juggle, and you start with these little scarves. They float in the air longer and give you more time to react. They’re like clouds. And when you can’t keep up, the clouds touch the ground.
And here’s the real insight: Most of the time, it’s OK to let them fall.
If we try to do anything great, or anything hard, our lives are destined to be a constant series of failures. There are some things that require your full attention—you can’t let your toddler run out into the street. But most things, most of the time, won’t shatter if you let them drop. You can take a breath before you bend down and pick them up again.
That day when you check everything off the to-do list and you see nothing but clear skies in front of you? It’s not coming. And that’s fine. It’s normal to be a little fogged in, day after day. There’s mystery in the fog, and beauty. Might as well embrace it.
10 things I wanted to share this week:
In case you missed my appearance on the TV show TRUESOUTH last weekend, set your DVR: it will re-run often on various ESPN networks. You should be able to find it by searching “TrueSouth Brunswick.” I believe it’s also available on the ESPN app. I’m biased, of course, but I thought the show was beautifully written and constructed and shot. Your opinion of the special guest may vary. You will also enjoy the music, which comes mostly from south Georgia artists—they’re at the top of this tremendous TrueSouth playlist, which includes tracks from the entire run of the show.
After the Georgia runoff, I wrote a note of thanks to my home state.
Mary Gauthier, the brilliant singer-songwriter, was my guest on SouthBound this week—she talked about how the Indigo Girls changed her life, how songs saved her soul, and how to properly mourn a broken guitar.
I also had a couple of commentaries for WFAE—my regular weekly, on Charlotte’s longtime battle with the cankerworm, and a bonus piece, on the ominous shooting of two electrical substations in Moore County.
DOG NEWS: While I work on my book, I’m devoting this slot to dog stories. This week: A bunch of sheep have a dog named Casper to thank for their lives.
Seth Wickersham’s profile of former star quarterback Andrew Luck is my favorite kind of story: One where the main character looks back on a turning point with some time and distance. Luck quit the NFL without knowing quite why, or what he would do next. Now he has a better idea about both.
Jeremy Collins’ dispatch from among Herschel Walker’s people is a masterclass on weaving together several big ideas into one stunning story.
Jeremy Markovich looks into the fascinating history of violent college football mascot art.
Elaina Plott Calabro tries to understand where Marjorie Taylor Greene came from.
I need to say this with complete sincerity, since Jack Black is involved: This Tenacious D cover of “Wicked Game” (or at least a portion of it) is legitimately beautiful.
See y’all next week, everybody.
The Jeremy Collins piece just reinforced how conflicted I am about Herschel. I saw him as a heroic figure, and when I watch him run over Bill Bates or outrace everyone else on the field, I still do kind of view him that way, but maybe this is unfair to him. He’s a man who puts on his pants one leg at a time just like the rest of us, and he’s allowed to have his own foibles and problems.
Herschel Walker the human being is many things, good and bad like the rest of us.
But of those many things that he is, we are fortunate that being a United States senator is not one of them.
Thanks for great Southbound interview with Mary Gauthier. I’ve been a longtime fan and immediately downloaded her book “Saved By A Song”.