The Black and White Edition

Yep, readers, I'm back in Utah, where my dear sister has already decorated for Christmas. This is one of those years where I would never judge anyone for doing it early. It has been a real doozy. Even my kid is feeling it to a certain extent. Recently, El Kiddo asked me if we could "be like one of those families that decorates for Christmas early so we can feel something." And so we bought some of those seasonal birds from Target to get the ball rolling. We're not quite as far along as my sister is, but it's a start. I will probably start playing my "A Charlie Brown Christmas" soundtrack the day after Thanksgiving just to move the spirit along.

Knowing I was headed this way, one of my friends sent me a Starbucks gift card. It was a lovely gesture and I will begin keeping a tally today of how many times the baristas out here got my order right versus wrong. You know I've been having trouble with it on these trips. So I'm hoping a friend's act of generosity might yield a double-shot bit of magic this time around. I'll report back next week.

In the meantime, I've written before about hard decisions here, and why they're hard and how we wrestle with the pros and cons to arrive at the best possible outcome for all. Maybe it was a writing prompt, but you get the idea. I've written about it. Today, I wanted to come back around to this idea by talking about a celebrity killer whale.

Bear with me. Do you remember the 1993 film "Free Willy" which was about an orphaned boy who befriended a similarly orphaned orca at an ailing amusement park, and then freed him into the wild? On the face of it, this was a heartwarming story that warmed the hearts of children and got them thinking about aquatic life. But then, it was learned that Keiko, the whale who played Willy in the film, was actually not free at all, but living in a small tank...in an ailing amusement park in Mexico. Kids were outraged by this, and so there was a big mission to figure out how to free Keiko in real life. Because it wasn't so cut and dried and cinematic, you see. It wasn't so black and white.

Right now, Serial has a wonderful podcast called "The Good Whale" that recounts this yearslong experiment, where the goal was to teach Keiko, who had depended on – and truly loved – humans for most of his life, to become wild again so he could be freed into his native waters near Iceland. This was no small feat. Poor Keiko was essentially an easygoing, 10,000-pound Golden Retriever who loved getting belly rubs and swimming with his humans when this all started. He didn't know how to hunt, hadn't been in an ocean for decades, and wasn't sure how to speak to whales in a way they might understand. How could humans teach him to be a wild whale? Should they even have been the ones teaching him? And how could humans navigate the attention Keiko was getting as he was being trained to go back to the sights and sounds and stimuli of the sea? And what of Keiko, who would slowly learn that the world was much bigger than the one he had known for some time? After being in a controlled environment, managed by humans, how would he react when there were no humans around to feed and pet him? Would he ever be able to lose his dependence on them, and bond with a pod which would increase his chances for survival?

There are no easy answers here. But the humans tried, and as hard as it was for Keiko, he tried too. However, re-entering the wild was as traumatic for him as being taken from it as a young calf. In the end, Keiko swam 1,000 miles through the open sea back into the arms of humans, specifically a 13-year-old boy who sat with him as he cried in the night. When reporters got wind of it, hordes descended on the little Norwegian seaside town where Keiko was, circling their boats around him, and diving in beside him for a swim, which was only more traumatic.

I encourage you to listen to this marvelous, and occasionally heartbreaking bit of storytelling when you get the chance. And if you're so inclined, reply to this email and let me know what you would have done for this magnificent, sensitive beast.

Writing prompt: Write about your favorite holiday memory? Who and what made it so special?

In Praise of the Long Black Dress

Let me tell you what: I was so grateful that I got to see Adele's Las Vegas residency last year. It was a remarkable, intimate show full of the vocal pyrotechnics you might expect. But also? The GOWNS. Over the fifty weekends she spent at Caesar's Palace, Adele trotted out an amazing, but always different array of long black dresses, all of them different and gorgeous in their own way. I don't know about you, but I have spent those fifty weekends, eager to see what she wore, and who designed it. The directive famed designers like Dior and Armani got from her was that the dresses needed to be long, black, figure-flattering, and give her enough breathing room to belt out her hits. As the residency comes to an end this weekend, NYT style writer Vanessa Friedman looks back on these dresses, which she said were the "most striking series of LBDs since Audrey Hepburn stepped out of a cab in 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' wearing Givenchy." To read her retrospective, which includes shots of these amazing dresses, click here.

Quote

Nothing scares me. Whatever is the darkest and most relentless force against your wellbeing is also the greatest opportunity for transformation.

-- Jon Batiste

Endnotes

What I'm listening to: Jon Batiste's "Beethoven Blues" on repeat. Do yourself a favor and download a copy. You won't regret it.

What I'm watching: Season two of "Arcane" on Netflix. My kid is watching it now, and the animation is just dazzling, so I'm going to have to go back and watch season one.

What I'm looking forward to: MLS Cup Conference Semifinals. Atlanta United has had a remarkable run lately. Here's hoping they knock off Orlando City FC tomorrow afternoon.

Where I hope you'll donate this week: Among other things, the Rosalynn Carter Institute for Caregivers helps caregivers take better care of themselves, collaborate with professional caregivers, and be the best advocate possible for the person in their care. Please consider a gift to them, so they can support the 105 million Americans currently taking care of a loved one.