My five things
This is a history of California, told through four kinds of trees—redwoods, eucalypts, orange trees, and palm trees. If you just fell asleep reading that last sentence, I totally understand. But this book totally sucked me in. Did you know, for instance, that one of the reasons California is covered in eucalyptus trees is because doctors in the 1870s claimed blue gums prevented malaria? Or that one of the reasons that fire destroyed so much of San Francisco after the 1906 quake because people wrongly thought the redwood used in most of the city's buildings was fire-resistant? These factoids AND SO MUCH MORE await you in this fine book.
My Powell's Books mug
My wife and I went to Portland, and we made a pilgrimage to Powell's Books. I got so overwhelmed by the majesty of the selection that I didn't buy a single book. But I did get this great mug, and it's become my omni-vessel. Can you really use the same mug for everything you drink? Yes, it turns out you can.
Spotify's Discover Weekly playlist
You probably already know about this playlist—Spotify updates it with 30 new songs every week based on things you like. I'm not sure what genius robot DJs are working behind the scenes to tune the algorithm, but it's almost too good. The playlist has introduced me to countless new songwriters I love (hello Frankie Cosmos and Stephen Steinbrink) AND old stuff that I'd completely missed (like Funkadelic's "Biological Speculation" and Joan Armatrading's "Woncha Come on Home.")
My blue sunglasses
I was walking to work a couple months ago when I passed a guy promoting a new start-up by giving away sunglasses. I'd lost my sunglasses on BART the week before, so I grabbed a pair. My personal style can best be described as "tidy invisibility," so there was something oddly exciting about sporting loud, candy-colored specs with a webinar company's logo on the side. I've worn them every day since, and they bring a little bit of goofy summer to the rainy winter we've been having.
I love the way this tale of a struggling rapper and his even-more-struggling manager mixes absurdity and sincerity. If Jim Jarmusch and Outkast had a baby, it would be Atlanta.