January 2026 – Christmas Books and Snowcrete

Reading

So Far Gone by Jess Walter. This is my third 2025 Christmas gift book. It’s the story of an estranged father who becomes a hermit when he can no longer cope with his dysfunctional family, especially his menacing son-in-law who is involved in a Christian nationalist end-of-days cult. The father comes out of the woods to deal with a family crisis that touches so many bases: angsty teenage girl, annoying younger brother, Bible-twisting preacher, a drug-laden Peruvian-inspired music festival, and more. Somehow Walter makes it all work. Adding to my enjoyment, it is set in western Washington State and Idaho, an area that I rode through on my 2018 bike tour.

Holding by Graham Norton. The fourth 2025 Christmas gift book. The BBC Irish chat show host’s first novel and quite a good one. Set in a sleepy rural town in County Cork, a bored, corpulent guarda Sergeant is confronted with the discovery of a buried remains at a construction site. Then another set of remains are unearthed. Who are these poor souls? Norton does a fine job of leading us to a resolution of the mysteries.

Deadwood by Peter Cozzens. The fifth 2025 Christmas gift book. A history of the founding and early days of Deadwood, the fabled gold mining town in the Black Hills of present day South Dakota. Loads of colorful characters including Wild Bill Hickok and Calamity Jane. (Both of them were fictionized beyond recognition by dime novelists). Stinky streets, robbers, murderers, “soiled doves”, and many more colorful characters. I learned to my amazement that the U. S. Army initially chased white miners out of the area to protect the sovereignty of the Lakota people. When the economy crashed in 1873, President Grant turned on the Lakotas and forced them off their land.

Taking Manhattan by Russell Shorto. A historical account of how the English acquired Dutch holdings in North America. A companion to Shorto’s The Island at the Center of the World which explained how New Amsterdam was the blueprint for pluralism and tolerance (among white people, at least) in the New World. Richard Nicholls, the English officer in charge of the invading fleet, wisely chose to negotiate a peace with Peter Stuyvesant, governor of New Amsterdam. This created the blueprint for cosmopolitan cities the world over.

The Birds that Audubon Missed by Kenn Kaufman. The last of the Christmas gift books given by our friend Melissa, an avid birder. (I ran into her in Key West during my 2017 bike tour. She and her husband were going to the Dry Tortugas National Park on a birding excursion the following day.) The book describes how ornithology and bird art evolved during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries with a focus on Audubon. It turns out he was quite a flawed character – (he fabricated an large eagle that he called the “Bird of Washington” to impress his English patrons. Nevertheless he was a tireless, unmatched painter of hundreds of actual birds. This is just the book for bird nerds.

Frankie by Graham Norton. The life and times of Frances Howe, from 1950 to 2024, as told to her caregiver in her old age. Frances is cast out of her miserable home in County Cork to adulthood in London and New York City. An extraordinary tale, beautifully written. Just a wonderful book.

Medical

On the 7th, I had my sixth (or maybe seventh) colonoscopy. This time with a new doctor, as my previous gastroenterologist had retired. The good news is no cancer was found. The bad news is they found 8 benign polyps which means I have to do this again in 2029.

Watching

Hamnet – We actually saw this on New Years Eve. I thought Jesse Buckley was terrific as Shakespeare’s wife. She’s in nearly every scene. Often in extreme closeups with minimal to no makeup. Oddly, she and Paul Mescal, who plays the Bard, are both Irish. The film didn’t meet my expectations (based on rave reviews) but it it held my interest for 2 hours and 15 minutes.

The Rip – Matt Damon and Ben Affleck in a buddy cop movie with more twists than a bag of Twizzlers. There’s $20 million of drug money in a house in Hialeah. Who do you trust? Implausible amounts of gun violence. Also, stars Kyle Chandler. Much better than I expected.

Miracle: The Boys of ’80. A Netflix documentary about the Miracle on Ice US Olympic hockey team. My freshman year at Boston University I lived on one of the hockey team’s floors so I knew (and got whupped at ping pong by the team captain, Mike Eruzione. He proved Leo Durocher wrong; nice guys sometimes finish first. A fun trip down memory lane.

Pro Football – In order to prep for the Super Bowl, I watched a few playoff games. I was pleased to see games played in snow. Now I have to find out who Bad Bunny is.

Riding

I managed to ride 722.5 miles, 403 of which were outside. Riding outside was out of the question for the last week or so due to the snow and ice storm. It’s not at all surprising that I rode 50 miles less than January 2025.

I spent at least ten hours digging through the snowcrete to free up our cars. My car, parked at the curb, had been plowed in. It was not a lot of fun digging it out. Thankfully we didn’t lose power (yet) and missed out on a follow-up storm that moved south of the area.

One interesting thing that took place was the fact that my banged up shoulder handled all the shoveling and chopping very well. No pain at night anymore. Also, an unexpected side effect was how my weight machine workouts became easier. Go figure.

Free at Last

Yesterday began with a trip to the rec center for biking and weights. Next we went to the grocery store for milk and a few other items. Then came the big one: a trip to my local hardware store. A couple of years ago they had a Wovel in stock. It was way over-priced so I passed on buying it, seeing as how I had one already. Little did I know they were no longer being made.

I asked the owner of the hardware store if he had any Wovels. Nope. He sold the last one a couple of years ago. Bummer. He asked if it was a good tool and I said it was the best. Maybe he can convince a supplier to come up with a substitute.

I walked around the store and came to realize that the place was sold out of salt, shovels, and bird seed. Insane.

When we returned home I grabbed my spade and snow shovel and went back to work on the car. I needed to free up the right side of the car and the right front wheel. This was tricky because the car was parked about 10 inches from the curb, barely enough to wedge the spade in. Also, the snow on which I needed to stand was solid ice. I had to hack footholds into the stuff. Once I had anchored my feet, I could chop away, being extra careful not to hit the tire or the side of the car. At one point I had to reach down and lift slabs of ice from beneath the right edge of the car with my hands.

After a half hour I concluded that I would not be able to get all the ice off the tire. I decided to try and back the car out. No guts. No glory. After some rocking forward then back I managed to get enough momentum to free the car and back it up about a car length. Success. After another 15 minutes of clearing solid ice from where the car had been, I tossed some salt on the pavement and re-parked the car about three feet to the left of its previous parking spot.

This morning I took some recycling out to our trash cans. I had to traverse about 60 feet of “lawn”. Solid ice. It was a good think I had stomped some holes into the snow/ice pack the other day.

It looks like the next big storm, expected tonight, will miss us to the south. There may be a dusting but that’s about all. Temperatures will rise slightly above freezing for a few days midweek. The refreezing overnight will be insane.

Hurry spring.

A Dollar in the Dryer and It Ain’t Dry Yet – Ice Shoveling Version

I took a couple of days off from snow and ice clearing, mostly because I was seriously sore. Yesterday my wife had trouble getting her car in the driveway; apparently someone (yours truly) had left the gap in the snow at the end of the driveway a tad two narrow for her Outback.

Today, the cleaning service came to our house so my wife and I went to a diner for breakfast. Afterwards we headed to the rec center to lift weights. Neither the rec center not the library was open so we found a parking lot and played on the phone (me) and napped (she).

At noon we headed back to the rec center to use the weight machines. I found the weight surprisingly easy to move despite, or maybe because of, my shoveling work out.

After our weight routine we headed back home. I went outside to widen the driveway gap using the garden spade that I repaired last night. The snow and ice lasagna (a term I saw online) first had to be separated from the pavement. It came up in slabs and chunks. I had to chop up the big pieces into throwable smaller chunks. After about two hours my back was aching and I quit. I opened the gap and freed up most of the back half of my ice bound Accord.

After lunch and nap, I went into the basement to ride Big Nellie for an hour. Recumbent riding always seems to set my back right, and today was no exception to the rule.

Tomorrow I go back out to try to liberate the Accord again. I need to get this done by Saturday before the next snow storm comes. Then I can spent Sunday, re-liberating my car so I can get to a doctor’s appointment on Monday.

We’re having fun now.

Shovel Unready – An update on the storm

As I mentioned in my last post, my Wovel snow shovel died while I was working to clear snow and ice. A few hours later, as the sleet kept coming down, my wife went out for round two. She managed okay but the plastic pan of the snow shovel she was using started to crack.

Today I went out to deal with about one inch of ice on the walkway to our front door and in the driveway. I used a garden spade to chop the ice one foot at a time. First, I’d chop across the walkway creating a one foot wide swath. Then I’d chop into the swath 90 degrees from the first cut to make squares I could easily remove.

I thought this was going to take an hour at most but after an hour I managed only to make it to the driveway. I kept hacking away using the same method until I noticed that the nail that held the handle to the wooden shaft of the spade had fallen out. I spotted it on the driveway and went into the basement to find a replacement. I found two slightly longer nails and put one on each side of the handle.

Back outside everything was going great. I had my wife’s car dug out when I noticed that both nails had fallen out. I search everywhere but came to the conclusion that they must have been cast onto the lawn. Ugh. The spade was useful as long as I didn’t pull up on the handle. So I continued scraping and cutting away and found that now the rest of the driveway was easier to clear, probably because of the sun’s rays. I had about 15 yards of pavement until I reached the cleared lane in the street. The ice was starting to come up in big heavy slabs. I loosened the ice with the spade then used our one remaining snow shovel to clear it away. After three hours I broke through the plowman’s barrier in the street. My shoveling form had gone to hell but I kept slogging away. My lower back was now very unhappy but I was nearly done.

After making a clear path for my wife’s car I quit. My car was parked at the curb. I had freed it yesterday but it was now encased in ice and plowed snow. Freeing it will have to wait until later in the week when hopefully the temperature rises above freezing and my arms and back recover.

The weatherman is talking about more snow Saturday night into Sunday morning. Ugh.

The Wovel Dies a Hero

We are in the midst of a nasty winter storm. Just before midnight, snow began falling as a fine mist. By 10 am we had about four inches on the ground as the misty snow changed to misty sleet and freezing rain. I went out to shovel. For about an hour I used a conventional snow shovel to clear the walkway to the house. Thanks no doubt to my recent weight training, my body seemed to tolerate the workload.

Using the same shovel I cleared the snow off our two cars and then cleared the snow from around my wife’s car in the driveway.

It was time for the Wovel. The Wovel, also called a Snow Wolf, is an ingenious contraption. An oversized shovel pan is mounted on a shaft. The shaft passes through an axle. A large wheel is mounted on the axle. The wheel is a sandwich of two wheels bolted together.

To move snow, you push the shovel pan into the snow and then push down on the cross bar at the user’s end of the shaft. The real advantage of this design is that instead of lifting and throwing the snow, you push down on the crossbar while stepping forward, casting the snow away. In addition to being ergonomically clever, it clears snow much faster than a conventional snow shovel.

Another advantage of the Wovel is transporting the snow. Instead of carrying a heavy shovel-full, you let the wheel bear the weight.

I admit that the Wovel looks weird but you can’t deny the physics of the thing. It appeals to the recumbent rider in me.

Madman with Wovel

I made short work of the rest of the driveway. I cleared a spot on the street for our garbage cans. (Pick up is scheduled for tomorrow but that ain’t gonna happen.) I then cleared the street out to the point where the snowplow had passed. As I worked the continuing precipitation made the snow heavier and heavier.

The Wovel started to wobble. As I finished the area in front of our driveway, the Wovel’s plastic wheel started to disintegrate. Two metal bolts that hold the hub of the wheel together had fallen off. Now each time I turned the Wovel the right half of the wheel started to slide away to the side. I kept putting it back together but each successive shovelful of snow put more stress on the plastic blades that act as spokes of the wheel. After another ten minutes one of the blades broke. My Wovel was kaput.

RIP

The Wovel was made by a small Connecticut company that is apparently no longer in business. My online searches have all come up with “No Longer Available”. Even on Amazon. Bummer.

I continued clearing snow for another hour the old fashioned way. I am sore in places that I didn’t know I had.

My wife took the second shift, mostly clearing sleet and ice.

Our fingers are crossed that the power doesn’t go out.

There’s Cold, then There’s COLD

What’s the coldest you’ve ever been? I can think of three days in particular when the cold made me truly miserable.

One reason I moved south to the mid-Atlantic over 40 years ago was to get away from winter in the Northeast. I grew up in Albany, went to college in Boston, and then went to grad school in Providence. I can recall running in sub-0 weather in Albany when my ears froze about half way into a 2 1/2 mile cabin-fever-escape run. The cold was bad but the thawing out was worse. In Boston the cold temperatures were worsened by brutal winds. Providence isn’t as cold but that only means that the side streets become glaciers. Another of my coldest days was spent on a day trip with my girlfriend to Boston in running shoes. The streets were frozen slush. By evening my feet were screaming in pain as we rode the bus ride back to Providence. The half mile walk to my girfriend’s apartment had me in a world of hurt.

My coldest memory dates back to camping in Yellowstone National Park in 2023. My tour mates, Cory and Mark, brought sensible camping gear. I had brought my flimsy REI sleep sack (rated to 60 degrees F) and a silk sleeping bag liner that would have kept me reasonably comfortable down to about 50 degrees. Having spent a chilly night in my tent in a National Forest campground east of the Grand Tetons, I decided to buy a thin fleece blanket at the Grant Village general store. Sleek sack, liner, and fleece should keep me warm right? Not even close. Grant Village sits at 7,800 feet. That night temperatures dipped into the low 30s. Dang. I twice walked to the campground bathroom to warm up during the night. My guess is that the bathroom was about 45 degrees inside. By sunrise I has slept exactly 0 minutes and my feet were purple. There are no words to describe the relief I felt when I walked inside the heated restaurant at Yellowstone Lake.

Last Friday morning I rode 14 1/2 miles to Friday Coffee Club in DC. It was 24 degrees outside. I wore all the things and used chemical hand and toe warmers. I even broke out my over boots, which I used when I commuted to work in temperatures even lower. The first two miles were uncomfortable but I took solace in the fact that I was nowhere near as cold as Yellowstone.

I stopped to take a photo of the emerging sunrise. Even after the sun came up, the temperature barely budged.

Daybreak at Dyke Marsh on the Mount Vernon Trail.

Just before taking the picture, I passed two runners. One was wearing shorts. He had on layers on top and a ski cap and was clipping along at well under 8 miles per hour. Based on my running experience in Providence I could tell he was reasonably comfortable. To be honest I was not going much faster on my bike, the better to keep the wind chill down. A mile later I came upon the runners stopped near their cars at a parking lot. They seemed pretty happy having braved the cold for their morning miles.

I kept moving. After another couple of miles, I could see the planes flying into National Airport were landing to the North into a light wind. Ugh. About 12 1/2 miles into the ride I crossed the Potomac River on the 14th Street Bridge. Midway across the span I passed a runner. He had on a thin long-sleeved shirt under a thin t-shirt. He wore flimsy running pants and nothing on his head or neck. Insanity. Total insanity. He seemed not to care a bit about the conditions. Runners are like that.

To my surprise about ten people showed up for coffee. We are a hardy bunch.

My wife keeps reminding me not to complain. It’s January. She grew up in northern Indiana were schools close only when the wind chill is life-threatening at the school bus stop.

In a few days we will be plunged into a polar vortex, several days with highs below freezing. And, on Sunday, we expect to see our first significant snowfall of the season. Needless to say, I’ll be riding Big Nellie in the basement. Except for Sunday when I expect I’ll be putting all my recent weight lifting to use clearing the white stuff with my Wovel. It’s like a triceps press on a wheel.

Madman with Wovel

Cooling Down and Lightening Up

Ah, we find ourselves in the coldest week of the year. Or so the weatherman says, T. S. Eliot be damned. My memory says that mid February is worse but what do I know.

We are definitely getting more sunlight by the day. I must say that I haven’t succumbed to the winter blues yet, probably because recent weather has been conducive to outdoor riding. The Mule and I did 40 miles a couple of days ago. Sadly, I discovered that my cruising speed has dropped another notch. It is depressing to see 9.8 on my speedometer but it is what it is. I suppose when I get the layers off and get back to riding in shorts that I will see double digits again.

I’ve also been doing a fair amount of riding indoors. Today’s wind chills were in the 20s so a session on Big Nellie in the basement was in order. Riding inside also means I read a lot. I’ve knocked off five of the books I received as Christmas gifts. Book six, from an unknown donor, is next. I’ll give my impressions at the end of the month.

I have finally given up on my Surly CrossCheck. It no longer agrees with my body, specifically my upper back and neck. I offered it to a friend and he seemed somewhat interested. If he doesn’t want it, I’ll donate it to a local charity.

One of the gift books I read was about the town of Deadwood, South Dakota in the Black Hills. I have always wanted to ride the Michelson Trail (which ends in Deadwood) through the Black Hills and this book rekindled that idea. I checked and the southern start of the trail is about 1,100 miles from my in-laws’ place in Indiana. I’d need to launch by mid-May to avoid the summer heat of the Plains. The trail itself is about 110 miles. After that would come a two-day ride to Devils Tower which I’ve never seen. I honestly don’t know if I still have a big tour left in my old bones. We’ll see how I feel in April.

Nothing quite perks up the start of a new year quite like having a colonoscopy which I did last week. The prep seemed to take much more out of me (no pun intended) than ever before. Fortunately, no cancer was found so now I can go back to growing more polyps for my next procedure in 3 years.

At the start of the month, I made a list on my phone of adulting chores to do in January. I’ve knocked off several such as getting a new battery for the car, re-registering the car, taking disused clothes to Goodwill, taking old books to a used book store, and the like. I also spent far too many hours trying to gain online access my Social Security account. I finally succeeded and learned why the security software was rejecting me; I had fat fingered my phone number when I set up my account. Doh.

I am trying my best to avoid the news on TV. It is incredibly depressing. Newspapers as flawed as they may be are less stressful.

I have become addicted to word games. These suck up an hour every day. Which reminds me: today’s Waffle puzzle was posted 20 minutes ago.

My Year on the Wheel 2025

I made it to 10,000 miles for the eighth year in a row. It wasn’t easy but I pulled it off. Of the 10,164 miles that I rode, 723 were indoors on various contraptions. After we joined the local rec center, I decided to ride there and use the recumbent bikes for an hour, saving me from the elements. The rec center machines are cruel masters; the feedback from the display screen gets me riding much faster than I do outdoors. At the end of the year, I brought the CrossCheck indoors to try it out on my resistance trainer. It still beat up my body. By comparison, Big Nellie, my recumbent, on the trainer is almost as good as a massage.

The Mule was my bike of choice for most of the year, except July and August when I rode Big Nellie, my recumbent, exclusively. I experimented with an underseat steering recumbent, an HP Velotechnik Streetmachine, and found it just didn’t work for me. I rode it 119 miles before throwing in the towel after tipping over and injuring my right shoulder. I rode my Bike Friday only 201.5 miles. I rode my CrossCheck 1,142.5 miles, mostly during the Spring. That’s about 2,000 or so miles less than 2024. Since then, except for using it on my resistance trainer, it has gathered dust.

My biggest mileage month was April – 1,019 miles – mostly because of the tour I did on the Natchez Trace Parkway. My shortest month was February – 676 miles – no surprise. My mileage during the warm weather months was assisted by hiring a lawn service. I’ve learned that I would much rather ride than mow.

My longest ride of the year was 90 miles which came on the Natchez Trace tour. This is the first year in ages that I didn’t do a century (100-mile) ride. I did ride my age on my 70th birthday, albeit in kilometers. When you get old, kilometers rock.

I did my usual event rides, the WABA Spring ride (20 miles plus 30 riding to and from), the 50 States Ride (62 miles), the Great Pumpkin Ride (62 miles with my rear wheel falling off) and the Cider Ride (60 miles of hurt).

And then there is this:

Clockwise from upper left: Big Nellie, The Mule, The CrossCheck, and Little Nellie. 196,121 miles in all.

So my first goal of the new year is to put 3,879 more miles on my bikes. Check this space in May.

I had hoped to buy a new bike (or trike) in 2025 and get rid of one of my little-used ones but that didn’t happen. I also thought about an inn-to-inn tour in County Cork, Ireland but I let that slide. As for this year, I have no plans at all other than to avoid big metal things.

December 2025

Reading

Going Up Down East – My journal of my 2023 bike tour, a big circle from DC to Bar Harbor to Erie PA to DC. I had forgotten how much it rained. Also, I seemed to do much more walking than any other tour except 2024’s Kentucky fiasco.

The Creative Act: A Way of Being by Rick Rubin. (My first 2025 Christmas present book.) Rick Rubin is the answer to the question: what do Johnny Cash, the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Adele, Tyler Childers, and Run DMC have in common? He produced all these acts and many more. He claims that when he began producing rap acts as a student at NYU he knew very little about music (he played some guitar in a punk band) or music production. Oddly, this book mentions only a handful of musical artists in passing. It’s more about how you go from a vague idea to final product, one that first and foremost pleases yourself. It’s not surprising that the book is woo woo as all get out, given the fact that he’s been a practicing meditator and Buddhist for over 50 years.

Why Fish Don’t Exist by Lulu Miller My second 2025 Christmas present book, also non-fiction. Miller’s romantic live crashes and burns. She falls into despair. How to climb back out? By studying the life of a world-renown taxonomist who rapidly recovers from one crisis after another. Interesting enough. But when the story takes a series of incredible twists and turns. And about those fish….well, you’ll just have to read it.

Watching

The Beatles Anthology Episode 9 – This new installment tells of how the “Threetles” reunited to make the Anthology series, and rejuvenate two John Lennon demos, Free as a Bird and Real Love. The abandonment of Now and Then, a third Lennon demo is briefly explained. Not worth the time.

Train Dreams – A meditation on a long life through the eyes of Robert Grainger, a logger, a railroad worker, and a hermit who’s story runs from the late nineteen century into the 1960s in the northwestern US. Absolutely wonderful. Great acting (Joel Edgerton, William H. Macy, Felicity Jones, Kerry Condon, among many others), great cinematography, great editing, great score. On Netflix. Worth every second of your time.

Jay Kelly – Noah Baumbach’s tale of an aged actor – played with more than a hint of irony by George Clooney – who agonizes with regret over the life choices that enabled his rise to mega stardom. Despite terrific performances by Clooney and many others (including Greta Gerwig, Laura Dern, Jim Broadbent, and Stacy Keach), the story just didn’t connect with me. For the record, I am no fan of Adam Sandler but he’s really quite good in this.

Nick Johnson’s TransAmerica Bike Tour – On a way-too-cold day I decided to ride my CrossCheck in the basement. To keep me amused I watched this series of videos on Nick’s 2011 ride across the country on the TransAm. His experience was very similar to mine. (And yes the dogs of Appalachian Kentucky made him absolutely miserable.)

Sheelagh Daly’s Trip Across the Wilds of Scotland. This relatively short video tells the tale of Sheelagh’s 10-day solo ride across the Scottish Highlands. Mud and rain and cold and winds and fierce looking livestock didn’t deter our heroine from having an epic journey.

Riding

On the 16th, I managed to reach 82,000 miles on The Mule. As the month wore on, I became increasingly anxious about reaching 10,000 miles for the year. After all, I had twice been surprised my medical calamities in late December of prior years. I pulled it off though, reaching 10,000, for the eighth year in a row, on the 20th. A couple of days later I donated blood as a celebration. Here’s a helpful hint: do not lift weights and ride a bike for an hour before donating. I was knocked for a loop.

For the month I rode 684.5 miles, 168 was done indoors on various bikes: the CrossCheck and the Tour Easy in the basement and the recumbent torture device at the fitness center. I deliberately took it easy after the 20th, reaching 10,164 by year’s end. Instead on some days I went for long walks with my trusty cane.

I finished the month at xxx miles.

Reading and Watching in 2025 – Stuff I Liked

Reading

I read a couple dozen books this year. There were no duds in the bunch but these five books were the cream of the crop.

Mark Twain by Ron Chernow is a 1,000 page biography of America’s “first celebrity”. I’ll admit it helped that I had toured the Twain house in Hartford, Connecticut recently, but the book stands on its own.

Truman by David McCullough. Another 1,000 page biography by the master of popular American history. It deservedly won the Pulitzer Prize.

James by Percival Everett. This is a re-telling of the Huckleberry Finn (which I also reread in preparation). Very clever and insightful.

Say Nothing by Patrick Radden Keefe. A history of the Troubles in Northern Ireland during the late 20th century. Absolutely riveting. It literally gave me nightmares.

Why Fish Don’t Exist by Lulu Miller. Miller is “stuck” after a failed romantic relationship. To get unstuck she researches the life of a remarkable scientist with an uncanny ability to overcome tragedies. What she learns about him, about American society, and about herself is mind blowing.

Watching

Looking back I was surprised at how many good shows, movies, and other things I watched in 2025. Here’s an abbreviated list of the best.

The American Revolution – A six-part, twelve-hour miniseries on how the US came to be. Another gem from Ken Burns with collaborators Sarah Botstein, and David Schmidt.

Say Nothing – A nine-part miniseries based on the book of the same name (see above). Excellent but disturbing and depressing.

Andor Season 2 – Star Wars for grown ups. The prequel to Rogue One (which I also watched). Way better than that sounds. Featuring Diego Luna, Fiona Shaw, Stellan Skarsgard, Andy Serkis, Forest Whitaker, and Adria Arjona.

Michael McIntyre, Showman – A Netflix stand up special. Absolutely hysterical.

American Primeval – A tail of blood and hate and deliverance from director Peter Berg. Taylor Hirsch, long left in the dust after playing Tim Riggins in Berg’s Friday Night Lights, makes a stellar protagonist.

Train Dreams – The life of Robert Grainger, a logger, a railroad worker, and a hermit who’s story runs from the late nineteen century into the 1960s in the northwestern US. Absolutely wonderful. Great acting (Joel Edgerton, William H. Macy, Felicity Jones, Kerry Condon, among many others), great cinematography, great editing, great score.

A House of Dynamite – Kathryn Bigelow’s latest masterpiece about the 19 minutes after a nuclear warhead is launched toward the US. It is told from three perspectives: the military, the White House, and the President. Whoa.

Baseball. I watched dozens of Washington Nationals games, both in person and on TV. Utterly depressing how a team with such promise utterly failed to deliver. Fortunately, my interest in baseball was redeemed by an absolutely amazing World Series and The Comeback: Red Sox 2004, a three-hour documentary about the 2004 Red Sox post season with commentary from (among others) Ben Affleck and Matt Damon. Affleck’s memories matched mine to a T.