Guys — I am absolutely loving my summer reading list! It started with Hillary's What Happened, which, as I wrote in ​Right Now is the Best, Weirdest Time to Read Hillary Clinton's 'What Happened', felt weirdly timely and relevant. I also enjoyed and recommend ​A History of the United States in Five Crashes: Stock Market Meltdowns That Defined a Nation (which also feels really relevant right now), ​Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters (which is alarming, to say the least), A Sand County Almanac (which is more soothing than poetry), and ​The Pioneers: The Heroic Story of the Settlers Who Brought the American Ideal West (which was educational, but definitely not my favorite).

Now, I'm finishing Marriage, a History: How Love Conquered Marriage, from which I learned a really weird and unexpected fact:

​Marriage counseling was pioneered as a form of eugenics. 

Image: Eva Via Music

​My greatest regret of this whole pandemic is that I only had my travel guitar with me when the world shut down, rather than my Guild. Nevertheless, music has been a major source of comfort and entertainment during this unprecedented time. 
​

What Happened, by Hillary Rodham Clinton.

A few weeks ago, I joked that it's rare for a song to become more timely and relevant 18 months after writing it than it was when you actually wrote it – but that's exactly what happened with my song, Jefferson, which is about countries and historical figures with complicated legacies.
​

Image: @TheHappyTalent on Instagram

Last night, like every night before it these last few weeks, was one of the most glorious of my life. It was midnight, and I was walking through the woods, alone. The trees blocked most of the moonlight and starlight, but above and below and all around me, I was surrounded by fireflies. 

All at once, I felt secluded in nature, and like I was scuba diving, and like I was riding Space Mountain, and like I was on some kind of drug that just makes you love everything around more than you thought possible. 

Image: @TheHappyTalent on Instagram

One of the most important lessons I've learned as a dog owner (other than, "Keep the Christmas truffles on the highest possible shelf," "Don't assume they won't knowingly jump off a balcony chasing a squirrel," and, "Leave the tent door unzipped or else!") is that many of the health changes we assume are natural parts of aging... are actually symptoms of something totally treatable.

They say money can't buy happiness -- but they're totally wrong. First of all, on a log scale, more money does​ mean more happiness:

I've spent 11 of the last 36 months traveling. From Austria to Cambodia to Honduras, I've blogged about how travel can teach you how to be happy; how travel is like being in kindergarten, college, and adulthood, all at once; and how there's no limit to how much you can learn (and teach) while abroad. I've seen wild orangutans, herds of elephants, five different hornbill species, 900-year-old temples, blue flame volcanoes (seriously!), and so much more.

Despite all this, when people ask me to pick my favorite country, the answer is easy:

America. 

​America is the best country.

The craziest thing happened on my way home from a party a few months ago. I thought I was saving this girl from being sexually assaulted, but instead, I almost had to fight her. 

That was the night I realized my pepper spray was basically completely useless to me.

Image: @TheHappyTalent on Instagram

This is just a quick public service announcement that, while karaoke and open mic and musical theater and bar jams are all on hold right now... there is endless fun to be had, right there in your home, for less than the price of a beer.

All you need to do is buy the music used -- you'll be paying $3-8 per book instead of $18+.

"What about y'all?" a friend asked recently after during our nightly Zoom call. He'd just introduced everyone to his newborn baby and shared the birth story. "What's new with you?"

"Ummmm..."

"Errr...."

"What's... new with me?"

It's the lockdown. No one had much to report -- and certainly nothing that compares to birthing a quarantine baby. Finally, I said, "Well... I found a box of my old clothes from high school and middle school in the barn. They're in really good condition, and I think they still fit."