Scooter, our (Jack Droppers & the Best Intentions) fourth record is now available wherever you listen to music. I am so grateful. Grateful to continue doing this with people I love and grateful that people keep listening. Here are all of the links: linktr.ee/JDTBI

I know nothing about soccer (football), but here are the teams I’m rooting for: USA (where I live) Netherlands (ancestry) Scotland (where I’m enrolled)

Minnesota vs Orlando in the NBA finals next year.

After hearing Sinatra for the last 24 hours, I keep thinking about how much joy hearing that “oh oh oh oh oh” will bring when the Orlando Magic finally win an NBA championship.

USA. A Mexican restaurant. We had not yet ordered anything, and the food was already arriving. Chips. Salsa. Unrequested. Free. I stopped the waiter. "We have not earned these." "They just come with the table, man." They come with the TABLE. In my land, hospitality is a debt. Every gift creates an obligation, weighed carefully, returned in the proper season with interest of feeling. Here, the gift arrives before you have even proven you can pay for dinner. This is not an appetizer. This is a declaration: we trust you. Eat. I ate with the gravity the moment deserved. And then — I must report this calmly — the basket emptied, and a new one appeared. "Did we…?" "Refill," the waiter said. "It's bottomless." Bottomless. They have wells of salsa. The supply lines of this nation are beyond anything my ancestors imagined. My friend warned me. "Don't fill up on chips, dude." Too late. I had accepted three baskets. Honor demanded each one be finished — an unfinished gift is an insult. By the time my actual food arrived, I was a ruined man. I was not hungry. I was not comfortable. I had been defeated by a courtesy. Generosity that arrives before the request cannot be repaid. It can only be survived. I know the rule now. I have made my peace with the basket. One basket. Two at the most. Who am I deceiving. There is no number of baskets I would refuse. The trust of a nation is in that salsa, and I intend to honor all of it.

RIP David Hockney (1937–2026), one of the great colorists of the last century. Yorkshire, Los Angeles, family, architecture, water, light. Different palettes, different subjects, unmistakably Hockney. A selection of recurring accent colors drawn from across his work.

It is a moral failure of our country that we changed the rules to create a trillionaire while doing nothing about the 771,000 homeless and over 18 million who do not have enough to eat.

I’m sorry, but we’re a country band now. Our new single, “I’d Rather Be Fishing” is available wherever you find music.

The Spurs know how to TAKE the lead, they just don't know how to HOLD the lead. And that's really the most important part of the lead: the holding

anotha one

Introducing the Scottish-American travel dictionary 🇺🇸🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿 We’ve put together this guide to keep the Tartan Army out of trouble in the States. Read carefully to avoid confusing the locals, deeply offending the country, or being interrogated by Homeland Security over a sandwich.

This is wild

That historical Orlando Magic collapse that has haunted me for weeks is now the third largest lead blown in playoffs history.

I’m supposed to just go to bed now?

Gotta throw a lob to Wemby, right?

Oh my Goodness

That’s a backcourt violation!!! Challenge?