There’s a bus stop on my front lawn. I think about this often — how in suburbia, neighbors might post “keep off the grass” signs, but here in my small city, the neighborhood literally comes to me. It’s just one of countless small, cool things I’ve found in semi-urban living that I’ve been reflecting on lately.
I’ve lived in various settings throughout my life. Suburban neighborhoods where everything required a car, a brief stint in a rural area, and now, this walkable pocket of an old New England factory town. Each morning, I witness the beautiful tapestry of humanity passing by my window, people of different ages, backgrounds, and walks of life, all sharing this common space.
Just by walking out my front door and heading downtown, I can sample cuisine from six different cultures, wander through a vast park that is (quite weirdly) completely hidden from the road, access trails, or catch a movie. The architecture tells stories of old moneyed mansions and industrial mill history, repurposed and renewed. At night, the sounds of the city remind me that we’re a community, all of us sharing this vibrant ecosystem (the occasional late-night motorcycle notwithstanding).
Cities aren’t perfect, of course. The sirens, the trucks, the constant hum of activity … they’re all part of the package. I also recognize that rural tranquility or suburban space offers different kinds of peace that many people rightfully cherish. But there’s something about city living that connects deeply with who I am, providing a sense of community and shared experience that I’ve found nowhere else.
My Picks
While this month’s picks are decidedly geeky, I think they still have something to offer for everyone.
I Spent 30 Days in a Dead Game
There.com is an old multiplayer VR world that is somehow still running. It’s essentially abandoned except for a small core of loyal users, and this video details the experience of an outsider trying to understand why they stick around.
Circling back to a major consideration in my deliberations about ethical AI use, Andy Masley does the math and makes the charts to help clarify everything. Perspective is key, here: “If individual emissions are what you’re worried about, ChatGPT is hopeless as a way of lowering them. It’s like seeing people who are spending too much money, and saying they should buy one fewer gum ball per month…”
An Ars Technica History of the Internet
This is the first of three parts in a series by Jeremy Reimer that delves into the history of our modern information and communications infrastructure. Packed with photos and artifacts plus tons of details that I haven’t seen elsewhere, I am over the moon.
There are parts of my life that I take for granted and think everybody knows about. Then I talk with someone and realize that it’s ridiculous to think this way. I’m going to try to remedy this by sharing some of my favorite everyday tools and hacks in this newsletter. Here are my first two…
Kagi is a paid search engine. For $5 per month (less if you pay annually), I get to search the internet in a way that values me, the customer, over ads and tracking. They don’t store my search history, there’s no paid placement, and I don’t have to go hunting for high-quality results. Just a quick, effective, and beautiful search experience that’s worth every penny.
Unless it’s mission critical for you to get the fastest and most reliable cell service possible, I think Mint Mobile is the way to go for those of us in the US. Hank Green did the numbers and agrees. I’m a total geek, and the $15 per month 5 GB data plan with unlimited talk and text is plenty for me, but right now a year of unlimited data is just $20 per month. Fees are transparent and minimal compared to other carriers, and it has nationwide coverage on the T-Mobile network. Highly recommended, and if (ahem) you know someone with Mint, ask them for a discount code. It’ll help both of you!
Recently Published
If you’ve missed it, here’s what’s new on the site:
This post is a mini manifesto where I vent about how so much badly designed technology is shoved down our throats whether we want it or not. I deal with this all of the time, working with people of all ages who think that there’s something wrong with them when things don’t work, and it’s actually the software’s fault. We can do better! (It’s also where I was reminded about how great Kagi is…)
Video games are central to my life, and Slay the Spire is central to my video games. In this post, I step back to recognize how important this brutal game is to my life. Beyond being a superfan, the engagement it requires acts as stress relief, disrupts my tendency to ruminate, and gives my brain time to process things while I’m absorbed in the flow of play.
In the Groove
I’ve made considerably less progress with my May release than I’d expected, but I’m still committed to publishing my new work on Bandcamp by the end of the month. The video accompaniment and liner notes will have to wait until summer, but the piece itself will be finished.
Sometimes you just have to push, and that’s where I think I am right now. The War of Art talks about the scourge of capital-R Resistance for creators of all kinds, and I can certainly feel it looming behind me at all turns. All the more reason to keep moving forward!
Until Next Time
As I finish writing this newsletter, my window is open to the sounds of children playing a few houses down, there’s a big, beautiful crow who has decided our yard is its new favorite hangout, and people are walking their dogs under blooming dogwoods as cars come and go.
There’s a particular kind of magic in small city living that feels like the right fit for me. It’s a blend of convenience, culture, connection, and unexpected moments of beauty tucked between classic buildings and century-old trees. It reminds me that finding your place isn’t about what’s objectively best, but about what resonates with your own rhythms and values.
Whether you’re in a bustling metropolis, a quiet countryside, or somewhere in between, I hope you’re finding those elements that make your space feel like home. And if you’re ever passing through my neighborhood, you’re always welcome to wait at the bus stop on my lawn. After all, we’re all in this together, aren’t we?
Until June,
—Tom