Consuming endless news updates and op-eds may not have any effect on real-world outcomes, but it absolutely affects how we feel about our society, how we interact with our communities, what kind of predetermined grudges we carry into our days.
And so, recently, I’ve found myself seeking out a different kind of narrative: stories that offer small moments of surprise or delight, stories that make me curious about the world rather than eager to hide from it.
In The New Yorker a few weeks ago, I read about a late scientist’s bizarre quest to introduce a type of lizard (Italian wall lizards) to “Long Island and points north.” It’s objectively odd that a scientist would take it upon himself to encourage the spread of a very non-native species. But value judgments aside, it’s the sort of story that will stay with me, in part because it reminded me how endlessly, lovably strange humans can be.
We hope to bring you stories that add a spark to your day without, well, setting anything on fire. We will continue to strive, in the new year and beyond, to keep you curious about and invested in the community right here on the bluffs of the Mississippi.
Or there was the story on public radio last month about … therapy alpacas. Also, therapy llamas. At the Portland International Airport. (This is, of course, straight out of a hypothetical episode of the show Portlandia, and like the best spoofs, it’s completely real.) Laugh all you want: you know you could use a visit with Beni the llama and Captain Jack the alpaca right about now.
I want more stories like these, not just because animals make everything better (though they do) but because the human urge toward delight is just as worthy of consideration as the human urge for destruction, and I almost always need to be reminded of the former.
Closer to home, a bright spot recently was the day in November at Crosstown Concourse — subject of our cover package this month — when our sister publication, the Memphis Flyer, hosted its biannual Crafts & Drafts festival. Usually an outdoor event, unrelenting rain pushed the festival indoors, with painters and candlemakers and jewelry artists all arranged in a wreath around three floors of the building. The move inside turned out to be a welcome one, forcing vendors and visitors closer together, fostering the sense of being enclosed in a warm bubble alongside all manner of beautiful wares and smiling neighbors, wagging dogs and confused babies. Contrary to the view of our city or our country one might glean from looking at national news, everyone was … fine. Cheerful, even. Another reminder to spend more time living, less time scrolling.
The poet Nikita Gill writes, “Everything is on fire, / but everyone I love is doing beautiful things / and trying to make life worth living, / and I know I don’t have to believe in everything, / but I believe in that.” It’s an often-quoted, maybe over-quoted poem on social media, but I think that speaks to something in our culture: The bigger world is usually overwhelming and often brutal, but if we look around, we get to witness so many small and lovely moments of earnest effort.
This magazine is all about those small and lovely, human-scale moments. We hope to bring you stories that add a spark to your day without, well, setting anything on fire. We will continue to strive, in the new year and beyond, to keep you curious about and invested in the community right here on the bluffs of the Mississippi. There’s plenty of news in Memphis to spike your blood pressure, needless to say, and while we won’t pretend that’s not so, it’s not, primarily, what we’re here to cover. And we believe that you probably wouldn’t pick up a publication with Memphis on the cover if you despised this place.
So, we hope you find something to make you smile in these pages, and we hope you keep thumbing through them, month after month. Small local businesses — like the one that produces this magazine — wouldn’t exist without community support. As we move through the weeks of holiday celebrations, we’ll be making conscious decisions to keep our dollars close to home. (A gift subscription to Memphis Magazine is always a nice idea, and our sweet circulation team will even send you a Dinstuhl’s chocolate bar to say thanks. I’m not above promoting ourselves: Order at memphismagazine.com/subscriptions and use code “HOLSUB24,” or call 901.575.9470 and ask for Kristin.)
Most of all, we’re grateful to you for spending time with us this year and for allowing our words to spend time with you. We know that your hours are precious, and we thank you for sharing a few of them. We don’t take that for granted. And if you ever have questions or suggestions for our team, we’re happy to hear from you: Write to us anytime at letters@memphismagazine.com.
Happy holidays, take care of yourself, and we’ll see you in the new year.
