Listening to music at Stonehenge
no one knows who they were or what they were doing
Hello and happy winter solstice, here is a rare weekend letter. I’m on a family vacation in England as I somehow tricked the fam into spending the holidays here this year (we’re going to the Cotswolds for actual Christmas Eve-Christmas-Boxing Day, it’s just like The Holiday except I’ll be with my parents and not Jude Law).
Yesterday I did two Cameos from Stonehenge and should probably be deported. Luckily the procession of people in cloaks with festive crowns and shawls didn’t witness this or I think they would have had me killed or at least cursed via Pagan spell ritual (if that hasn’t happened already - unclear). I appreciate them and everything they had going on and wish I had had time to speak to a few of them about their hopes and dreams but I was busy downing a hot chocolate and pocketing large packets of brown sauce before the bus (coach) left for Bath. Did you know Nicolas Cage lives nearby? He used to own the Mitford Estate I think but sold it in 2009. I would have liked to have seen him walking around town. He was not touring the Roman Baths anyway (which were actually quite cool - I, like the ancient Romans, believe strongly in the healing power of soaking oneself). At the pub I ran into a group of seven men, six of whom were wearing mullet wigs and various Hawaiian shirts. I am a journalist so I asked and it turned out they were all dressed up like the lone other guy, who did have sort of mullet-y hair but had chosen that day of all days to wear half-zip fleece, and so I joined them in loudly calling him a bell-end (I love partaking in the local culture). It wasn’t even the bell-end’s birthday or anything. They just did it “for the holidays.” Blokes rock.
On the tour bus on the way home the guide mentioned Margaret Thatcher and I booed loudly and everyone else stared at me. I guess they never studied 70s and 80s British post-punk.
Burying the lede but we also attended the Paddington musical earlier this week. It’s impossible for me to say if it was objectively good (I don’t really care for musicals as a general rule, Grease and a few others excepted) but to me, it was perfect. I started crying the moment the bear took the stage and didn’t stop until the very end, except during intermission. My parents were very much like “what is wrong with you” and honestly it’s a good question. None of the children seated around us seemed as moved. Besides Paddington (a symbol of perfect love and the highest ideals of humanity) the best parts were the two villains. They were so campy. I think I cried hardest when they sang a song about how wonderful London is. If I don’t get to live here one day I’ll die? Perhaps what is wrong with me is acute anglophilia (amongst other things). I know it’s not ideal but I think a country who built itself up by violently overtaking and stealing stuff from other cultures can bear a wee bit of fetishization.
What else? Earlier this week I played my tiny (wee) violin for GQ. They asked me for a “fun” year end list and this is what I gave them - a list of the top ten things I lost in the fire. I love to party, editorially. I used way too many parentheticals (as is my wont) and was worried using a photo with full beat was a bit gauche given the subject matter but then GQ edited the photo to make it look like I was a Southern rapper dropping the hottest chopped and screwed mixtape you’ve ever heard and also I saw Dua Lipa’s list and accompanying photo, where she is beautifully made up and sexily biting at a book that I believe is about a boat full of French migrants drowning in the English Channel so I felt better (Dua Lipa can do no wrong in my eyes, she is my favorite pop star whose music is none of my business).
Also: I did a best music of 2025 episode with Chris Ryan and also a holiday song draft on Bandsplain with Amanda Dobbins and Rob Mahoney that is honestly one of the best episodes of the year if you fuck with Christmas spirit like that, I started watching Landman on the plane (j’adore), and also my family and I watched the Rowan Atkinson show Man Vs. Baby (where he is basically Mr. Bean but a speaking version) because when in Rome.
Later this week or next (after the holiday) I’ll send a letter with my favorite films and books and stuff of the year, and maybe a Festive 50 playlist of songs. For now here is a round-up of what I’ve been listening to and also me trying out the audio function to talk about my experience at the Cameron Winter concert in LA. (Not enough people are talking about this talented young man in my opinion).