It’s Christmas. Which means it’s time for all those horrible “Best of the Year” lists, right? Aren’t they oppressive? The New York Times alone declared the 54 Best Songs, the 17 Most Striking Homes, and the 10 Most Idyllic Destinations of 2019. The published lists of the best actors, best dance, best theater, best art. The best movies, best albums, best TV shows. They told us about the top 10 new restaurants, and recipes, and the best “wine moments” of the year (whatever those are). The Times even listed the 10 Best Los Angeles Dishes of 2019. Seriously? Do they get to do that?
We’re geared up for a year of Sundays spent mostly with the Gospel of Matthew, my least favorite gospel.
Like the people going to see John the Baptist, Max went to the wilderness to look at the wild things. But he discovered that what he was going to look at was less important than what he was going to look for.
My friend, James, uses a flip phone and doesn’t text much. But I got a message from him Friday recommending a new podcast: Dolly Parton’s America. By the way, as a rule, if a friend with a flip phone recommends a podcast, you should always check it out…