Happy Thursday, and Happy New Year’s Eve. I’m writing this from the comfort of my couch, in the hazy twilight of the days in between Christmas and New Year’s. The fireplace is crackling, I’ve got a cup of coffee warming beside me, a Doctor Who episode on the TV, Taylor sleeping on the couch next to me and the dogs snoozing close by. It’s a warm, cozy respite from the chaos of the world. I feel very content.
First things first: We adopted a dog! We got Pudge the black lab/pitt mix from the Dallas Animal Shelter last week, and he is fitting right in with our little family. I think he’s scared of Opal, so we’re working on that, but he’s taken to us pretty well otherwise. He loves hikes and walks and he has these big sad eyes that look like he’s apologizing for something all the time and I can never stay mad at him for too long. It’s wild how much he reminds me of Nova — he’s anxious about some things at first, but is eventually enthusiastic about everything you place in front of him and he’s a big softie who really just wants pets and praise at the end of the day.
Pudge has been one of a few bright spots in my year. I think I speak for everyone when I say 2020 has not been the year we thought it would be, as much as you can predict what a year would be like. I’m not going to get into all of the “unprecedented year” and “new normal” and “thank God 2020 is over” talk because
A) All of those phrases are clichéd at this point and we should all know how badly coronavirus has personally impacted us. You don’t need me to explain that to you.
2) What even does “normal” mean anymore? So much of the way the world “normally” operated before this virus hit was detrimental to so many people. I hope the events of this year shed more light on how those in privileged positions can, and should, aid those in need of help and destroy the institutions which harm people; and
D) A year is not sentient. 2020 did not cause the problems it has exacerbated; we did. Those societal problems will not magically go away on Jan. 1, 2021. We will be dealing with the fallout from this year for decades. It’s wishful thinking to assume that a different presidential administration or an arbitrary change of a calendar date will make everything better.
Yet, I’ve taken a lot of comfort this year in the old adage “History doesn’t repeat itself, but it often rhymes” (supposedly coined by Mark Twain) and the Book of Ecclesiastes (supposedly written by King Solomon): “There is nothing new under the sun. Is there anything of which one can say, ‘Look! This is something new’? It was here already, long ago; it was here before our time.” Humanity is resilient. We will get through this because we’ve been faced with potential world-ending events for the entirety of our species. I hope 2020 will be the turning point for something better.
For me personally, this year has been hard, isolating, thought-provoking, illuminating, depressing, earth-shattering and full of death and destruction. It’s also been rewarding and restful in some ways, and I’m very privileged to be able to type that sentence.
The hard, isolating, thought-provoking, illuminating, depressing, earth-shattering and full of death and destruction:
I basically became a part-time health reporter in March, and I would be lying if I said that didn’t take a toll on me. Every day for five days a week starting at the end of March, I wrote some form of “xx County reported xx positive cases and xx deaths from coronavirus today.” Many times, that sentence would have “setting a new record” attached to the end of it. The worst part was that after a few months, typing those numbers became routine. I knew that those numbers represented human lives; it just became easier to think about the numbers as an abstraction instead of a concrete look at what coronavirus does. The job became easier that way, and I hated it.
I realize that merely reporting and recording those coronavirus cases and deaths is nothing compared to the hands-on work of nurses and doctors treating the disease and the people who are currently sick with coronavirus. But the constant influx of numbers was numbing.
And because this year was what it was, coronavirus was not the only thing causing death and destruction. This summer’s wave of protests came after a breaking point following years of police killings of Black people. Again, some mythical “2020” did not cause this; the catalysts for those protests were there long before this year.
I feel like I’ve been in a constant state of grief and mourning this year: for the nameless, faceless victims of coronavirus mentioned in county press releases; for the way this country systemically treats the disenfranchised; for Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, Rayshard Brooks, and other Black people that police are still killing. I have hope that a collective change will come at some point. This year has already changed me, and I hope it has changed everyone else and spurred people to action.
The rewarding and restful:
My own personal change is why I have some kind of hope for 2021. Despite all of the terrible things that happened nationwide this year, some good things came out of 2020 for me personally.
I’ve evaluated how and where and why I spend my money, and I don’t have a perfect track record on that, but I’ve tried to buy local whenever possible this year. I’ll continue that habit next year. And it’s bad that it took something like this year to make me evaluate my blind spots about race. But I’m trying to do and be better and use my money and influence in ways that don’t just benefit me as a white dude.
We found a church family that, even without setting a foot in the sanctuary, has welcomed us and has modeled a Christlike love for our neighborhood and all its people.
I started going to therapy over the summer when the weight of work and the uncertainty of our living situation got dire. And it’s been very helpful! Who’d a thunk it, actually describing what you’re feeling is good. I’m not as anxious about things anymore, and I’m working on other aspects of my life too. Sometimes change is good.
Some other good, rewarding highlights of the year:
Taylor and I were able to buy a home when our old landlords sold the house we were living in at the time. Not a day goes by when I’m not incredibly thankful for that.
I was able to see my parents for the first time in months for mine and Taylor’s birthdays.
I was able to see The Wonder Years play a live show right before everything shut down.
I witnessed the weddings of some great friends and I was able to participate in my best friend’s wedding proposal to his fiancée.
I’m going to be an uncle next year.
My cousin had her first child this month.
My whole family is still in relatively good health.
We adopted Pudge.
Taylor’s friends have accepted me as one of their own, so much so that I was able to film an episode of a YouTube show with them.
I wrote a pitch manuscript for a song-by-song look at Switchfoot’s “The Beautiful Letdown” for 33 1/3 Books. They didn’t select my pitch, but in the spirit of shooting my shot, if anyone likes what you see here and would like to pay me to write about the last big crossover album of the CCM era, let me know!
I expanded some of the things I wrote about for work and actually turned in some things I’m pretty proud of. Here’s a list:
This piece about drive-in movie theaters during the pandemic
This piece about students suing Texas Christian University for racial discrimination
This write-up about how a Dallas-based publishing company collapsed after failing to address multiple sexual assault allegations
My Dallas Stars and Stanley Cup coverage
My breaking news report that the Leaning Tower of Dallas finally fell down (remember the Leaning Tower? Good times).
This piece about rainbow-painted sidewalks in my neighborhood
A tale of a family reunited with their dog after five years
I talked with Shiner about their answer to White Claw
This story about TikTok that got picked up company-wide
This write-up about Fort Worth naming a stretch of road for Atatiana Jefferson
I was also able to write a lot more freelance for Book & Film Globe and turned in some good work over there, too. Namely:
Are we moving away from the binge watch?
I used a timeline structure to explain what happened with the release of The Hunt, and I used that same structure multiple times this year, but most notably for the release of Tenet
I looked at how Universal Studios and COVID-19 changed moviegoing, and in hindsight, paved the way for Disney+’s streaming-only debut of its Mulan remake, HBO Max’s rollout of Wonder Woman 1984 and Warner Bros.’ 2021 slate of films
In light of the protests over the summer, I looked at the cancellation of Cops and how almost all of our current crime shows glorify and deify police
Also in light of the summer’s protests and corporate America’s response to them, I looked at just how many streaming services celebrated Black films that weren’t about Black trauma
I explained why there’s no such thing as “elevated horror”
I also explained the “controversy” over Cuties
Host is the movie of the pandemic, and it’s not even close. Meanwhile, series that were explicitly about coronavirus were not great at all.
And, last but not least, I put together more deeep-dive and collaborative editions of this newsletter. Check out the Fast and the Furious newsletter here, the Pearl Jam newsletter here and the Christmas movie newsletter here. Next year will feature even more collaborations, so stay tuned!
I’m taking a break from writing here until Jan. 15, so this will be my last newsletter of 2020. I leave you with two songs I’m thinking about as we close out this year and head into the next.
Stay gold, everyone, and I’ll see you in 2021.