Drive: Here for It, #330

Hi! It's R. Eric Thomas. From the internet?
Hi!

Yesterday, one of my brothers texted me a link to my own Instagram story and wrote "Why didn't someone tell me that you have that amazing dog?!?" I appreciate that Stephen (normally very chill, lowkey funniest person I've ever met) felt the need to use multiple punctuation marks in this text like he was... well, like he was me (never chill). I love making a sandwich out of two question marks and an exclamation point like I'm packing a lunch for a day at Incredulous Beach. I love posing a question in a text and then ending the sentence with a roller coaster of emotions. QUESTION EXCLAIM QUESTION AGAIN. Boom chicka boom, chicka boom BOOM! It's like this as punctuation:

Anyway, I told my brother that no one told him I got a dog because I did not get a dog and therefore it would be a lie to tell him that. But, I continued, the reason he believed I had a dog was because I was sort of giving everyone the impression that I'd gotten a dog.

"I'm, um, doing a bit?", I said.

To be fair (to me, which I always am!), I did tell people on Instagram that this was Stanley, my friend Steven's dog, in the first video I posted of us together. But in subsequent videos I just launched into dog shenanigans, like I was a network television sitcom in its waning years, adding an animal and a child in order to retain viewer interest.

And let me tell ya, it worked! My family isn't texting me to discuss the random brunches I put on Instagram. Ratings are back up, baby! Boom chicka boom, chicka boom BOOM!

Here is the story: Steven and their partner Brennen moved to Iowa. (There are two Steven/Stephen's in this story. I apologize if this is confusion but I can't do anything about the tyranny of reality.) My friend Steven needed someone to drive their car and dog to Iowa, whilst Steven drove the moving van. I volunteered. They didn't even ask me; they were actually like "Wait, are you experiencing a psychological breakdown?" And subsequently, every person I've told about my plan to randomly spend two days driving a dog and a Hyundai Venue that I do not own to Iowa has been like "Is this a cry for help?"

Of all the things I do in life, this is what's causing concern?!?

(I mean, yes, I do get it. But, like, I work remotely and I have a license and, yes, I am allergic to dogs, and yes, working remotely does require me to technically not be driving in order to do it, but these are just details!)

In any case, I had an incredible time. Stanley was so chill! We listened to a couple of audiobooks--Reboot by Justin Taylor and Broken Places, a detective mystery by Tracy Clark, who also edits my Asking Eric column--and we listened to music and he did not complain about me careening wildly from Broadway showstoppers to sad singer-songwriters to the same Kelly Clarkson song for much of the time we were in Illinois. And he listened patiently as I worked through some very difficult feelings I'm having about my professional life and, while Stanley did not give me much advice about that--indeed, he fell asleep in the middle of it and farted--I felt scene and heard, even though I was literally neither, and that's what's most important.

Instead of flying back home from Iowa, I found a $23 flight from Cedar Rapids to Chicago ($23!!! What is this, 1974?!?) and so now I'm in an Airbnb in the Edgewater neighborhood of Chicago. And people keep asking if I'm here for the Democratic National Convention and I'm like "Oh! No... I'm just doing a bit?!?"

Kids split over estrangement from dad, mom caught in the middle (WaPo link)

20-something contemplates adding romantic relationships into her already busy life (Oregon Live link)

Woman doesn’t mind lunching with ‘off-putting’ friend, she just doesn’t want to do it monthly (NJ.com link)

A ‘friendly’ neighbor isn’t so friendly after all (Cleveland.com link)

Daughter living the high life while mom struggles (Loveland Reporter-Herald link)

A story of a family growing apart takes an unexpected turn (Marin Independent Journal link)

$23!!! What is this, 1974?!?,
Eric