Today was a good day. Momentum building moments and meetings, the slaying of my Notion task list, and the heroic filing of business receipts. The fastest I’ve ever done the deed, funny how on top of that sort of thing you can be when it’s your money on the line.
A few posts got unexpected reshares across social. The most popular? The popping of a bottle of Taittinger. What were we celebrating? Nothing in particular. But the vampire of existential crisis has been in his coffin for the longest time in a long time, and that’s worth raising a glass to.
Nightcap : Indian Coca-Cola. The G.O.A.T., right alongside the Mexican one. The coke is an accompanied by a separate glass of Cuérvo. I don’t know my Reposado like that, but the Día de los Muertos bottle art got me. I’m a sucker for Mexican art (especially skulls). Youtube education in the background, L322 generation Range Rovers — of course.
It’s 1:30 AM now. Just Mustard’s latest album on the HomePod (c/o Dominic). My kids have a meeting with Santa in the morning, and I’m planning a surprise lunch and maybe a Christmas photo. Life’s calm…weirdly calm.
Then YouTube hits me with an ad for more tequila. Then an ad for a no-name knock off hoodie with an Andrew Tate clone. I’m offended at Youtube’s data mined assumption here. The algorithm’s tightening its aim, but missing. It sees a “watch guy,” a “kickboxing bro,” maybe a “high-performance man.” Unlike many of the people who occupy those spaces…
I’m not angry.
I’m not anti-woman.
and I’m not interested in watching a Toyota hill race a Range Rover. The Range wins by default. It’s an icon. Even the Evoque.
Aside : This week I wore the most hyped piece in my small collection. Shiny 39 mm Rolex, simple 3-6-9 dial with the numerals in full white gold because it’s better at looking formal. The Explorer. It earned more attention than any “nicer” watch I’ve owned. Icons don’t explain themselves. They just are.
That’s the filter I’m applying to everything I create. Cars, content, the whole machinery of ambition within this brand.
Does it work because it’s real?
Or just because the algorithm says it should?
The tequila’s back in its cabinet. The house is quiet. The (classic?) Range Rover shopping feels less like a compulsion now and more like a test: “Can I enjoy an icon with no expectation, no justification. Just pure appreciation?”
The Rolex Explorer and the Taittinger reminded me of the answer.
Complication does not equal connection.
It’s about what doesn’t need explaining.
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