OBITCHUARY JAN26
prayers for the losses
Unlike many, I love January. I love winter. I love cozying up and watching a movie while the snow falls. I love sipping on soup in shorts and a sweater. It feels like an Ingrid Michaelson song. You remember the one featured in the Old Navy commercial from the holiday season of 2007? January exists as exactly that for me. It’s this romantic and nostalgic period of slowness. I can walk slowly into the kitchen/ I can open the window and get a breath of crisp air. I am able to fall in love with the moment, something that is impossible for me during other seasons.
However, this joyous period did not come without several losses. We see the state of the world. ICE is trampling across our nation with the disdain that only a rambunctious child could have. This imagery reflects the leader of our country - a man who cannot receive the word “no.” I struggle to even exude a sense of humor during this time. I feel a sense of rage.
However, this newsletter is meant to exude a lightness and a relatability. It is not my job to keep it light. However, I need to write something light-hearted. A list of events that have left a hole in our hearts. It sounds silly to think that one can write about death, loss, and grief with a light-heartedness, but if I am not light-hearted, then how will I get out of bed in the morning?
Okay, enough philosophizing and eulogizing - let’s just try to have a good time.
Steve Sheetz
We were only several mornings into the second quarter of the century when the news broke in the Altoona Mirror. Forty-eight hours later, it made it into the New York Times.
A huge part of my identity is where I am from. In every variation and city, one of the first things I tell people about is Altoona. I talk about the place like a little brother. I don’t have a lick of disdain. I love where I am from. I love the long stretch of fast-food restaurants on Plank Road. I feel a ping in my chest when I drive past my old high school. I see the dome of the Cathedral as I speed down 17th Street. Whether I am on a plane in the sky or in my apartment, I feel most myself when I am sitting by the pool in my mother’s backyard. I am most myself in my childhood home. I am most at home when taking a long walk past my elementary school.
Altoona has a lot of history. It would be innocuous to most, but to me, it’s the intricate fabric of my identity. One part of Altoona that’s a huge piece of me is the Sheetz convenience stores. Sounds silly, but Sheetz was founded in the 1950s by Bob Sheetz. What was initially a dairy convenience store became a full franchise. Sheetz was expanded by his brother, Steve Sheetz. It became a gas station. It became a fast-food location. You could get your gas and order an array of food options.
“Half a tank, two hot dogs, and a pack of cigarettes, please,” was the most profound sentence I have uttered.
Steve Sheetz passed away on the 4th of January. A tiny piece of me shattered the morning I found out. When you feel connected to where you come from, something like this will affect you. There’s something beautiful about hometown pride. I wanted nothing more than to drive to a Sheetz and eat Wisconsin Cheese Bites while leaning against the hood of my car.
My heart goes out to the Sheetz family and anyone else who feels a deep kinship to my hometown.
Bob Weir
I don’t have a strong connection to the Grateful Dead. I just remember being young in the front seat of a car with a man who was way too old for me. We were driving on the highway, smoking cigarettes out the window. He was blasting a Grateful Dead song.
“What is this?”
“It’s Friend of the Devil by the Grateful Dead.”
“Oh, I love this song.” I lied.
When he died, I simply thought of that memory. I know Weir meant a lot to a lot of people, but it’s a bit out of my wheelhouse. I thought it was still important to mention someone who deeply influenced the culture.
Valentino
This one. It genuinely body-slammed me. I know he was old, but his career was so prolific. As someone who was obsessed with fashion at a young age, he was always a presence that felt guaranteed.
The Valentino Fiesta Gown? Iconic.
Jackie O’s 1968 Wedding Dress? Stunning.
JLo’s 2003 Oscars Mint Gown? I hate her, but she looked great.
The famous rockstud sandals? Not my thing, but iconic nonetheless.
It feels like the last great designer of the time has passed away. It’s sad, but all we can do is look to the fashion future and value what we have - and what we have is a lot.
Catherine O’Hara
Okay, fuck this!
I was at a cafe when the news dropped. A friend texted me. I didn’t believe him, mainly because he pranks me frequently. When I checked and saw he wasn’t lying, I screamed - in public!
“NOT HER!” I yelled. “NOT THIS DIVA!”
From Home Alone to Christopher Guest films to Schitt’s Creek to Beetlejuice - this Canadian woman was a superstar with incredible comedic timing, vision, and undisputable talent. She leaves a regrettable vacancy. She was a presence that I certainly took for granted. I didn’t think we would ever lose her - but here we are. Here we are, living without her.
Please stream Best in Show or A Mighty Wind. Stream all six seasons of Schitt’s Creek. True legend and icon. Queen diva boots. Mommy the house!
Renee Good & Alex Pretti
Refer to my current essay about the state of the nation. I can’t say too much about this. Not because there isn’t much to say, but because I don’t know what there is to say. It feels like something that I can’t wrap my head around. We live in an era that is ultimately confusing. I am 34 and incapable of processing the nation’s vision. How can we move in this direction without hesitation? It feels like our country seeks to kill us. When I write those words, the shock fades. I can fully comprehend the sentiment because the government is always trying to kill its people. The only difference between before and now is that it is deeply apparent and in the face of the citizens. It’s obvious and undeniable.
Saying prayers for what we have collectively lost.
I just love this💕💕💕💕