vox--2020-12-31--The money we didn’t spend in 2020

The money we didn’t spend in 2020

The Goods devotes a lot of time to thinking about what it means to spend money : what we choose to buy , what it says about who we are as individuals and as a society , and why it all matters .
That ’ s the focus of our essay series The Best Money I Ever Spent , where people write about the purchases they ’ ve made , big and small , that affect their lives .
To close out 2020 , our staff wanted to take a swing at the notion of spending and value from a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ experiences , and services that we may well have bought in another timeline , but certainly not in this one .
Whether it was a gym pass or a year of preschool , a cheeseburger or a plane ticket to a friend ’ s funeral , the things we couldn ’ t buy this year marked how radically different our lives became compared to what we might have imagined — and raised the question of how they ’ ll be on the other side .
In the Before Times , a not-insignificant chunk @ @ @ @ @ @ @ at restaurants .
I obsessively tracked new openings , followed every update to Eater ’ s heat maps , and kept a running list of spots I wanted to try .
Although I was constantly chasing the new and novel , there was one place I returned to regularly over the years : Rose ’ s , a neighborhood bar down the street from my apartment in Brooklyn .
They had an amazing burger , arguably one of the best I ’ d had in New York , though I always felt it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ $ 19 , plus an extra buck if you wanted Gruyere , which of course you did .
Rose ’ s became a constant in my life , there for all occasions .
I went with my husband dozens of times and frequently brought various groups of friends .
I spent delightful evenings in the backyard garden or sitting in one of the booths or playing trivia on Monday nights .
It was a perfect neighborhood bar : always there to welcome you with open arms , to serve you something delicious and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Every time we went , we ’ d still grumble about how the burger was too expensive — $ 20 !
— but we ’ d order it anyway and never regretted it .
Sometimes I ’ d go in a group and everyone at the table would order the burger .
But we were paying for so much more than just the excellent food ; I loved the comfort and familiarity of returning to a place that had always been welcoming , a place where I had made so many fun memories @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the restaurant industry has been hit hard by the pandemic , and dining indoors with groups of friends has become a thing of the past .
Like many other restaurants , Rose ’ s was forced to shut down permanently .
I ’ m still mourning the loss .
I know that if the pandemic hadn ’ t happened , I would have logged a dozen more visits this year .
I wish I still had the chance to spend $ 20 on a burger there now .
Steve , my lovely friend @ @ @ @ @ @ @ just as the coronavirus pandemic was transitioning from , “ Oh , maybe it will hit us ” to “ Oh , it ’ s too late.
” We were the same age — 30 — and it hadn ’ t even been a year since Steve was diagnosed with the cancer that killed him .
Steve was a former roommate .
I lived with him , his wife ( then his fiancée ) , and a cast of four or so other roommates in a house in Arlington , Virginia .
Before @ @ @ @ @ @ @ but when we met , we were at the same phase of life : just graduated college , just moved to the Washington , DC , area for the first time , ready to start on whatever it was we were supposed to become .
Steve loved to cook ; so did I .
We spent weekdays talking about the ambitious things we ’ d cook over the weekend .
Nothing makes a house feel like a home more than having someone to cook with .
After two years in the house , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ moved back to Michigan .
I was going to fly to Michigan for Steve ’ s funeral ; Kim was so happy all the former roommates were going to be there .
We hadn ’ t seen one another for years .
I paid for a ticket .
And then I continued to read and report the news .
I knew I couldn ’ t go .
I felt horrible telling everyone else .
I felt terrible implying , by my absence , that maybe other people shouldn ’ t go either .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ understood .
I had been reporting on the virus for weeks , but it was just dawning on them too : Whatever horrible things happen in life , the pandemic was going to make them more horrible .
So I canceled the flight ; now I have $ 262.78 in unspent flight credits on Spirit , America ’ s least accommodating airline .
I don ’ t know what to do with it .
2020 was going to be a banner year for my favorite activity : seeing movies in the theater by @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , being all alone to cry or laugh in the darkness while still enjoying the social pressure that keeps me from looking at my phone .
Also , the really gargantuan quantities of diet soda .
How much money did I save ?
Well , none , obviously .
I spent it on garbage like an HBO Max subscription that doesn ’ t work on my Roku .
But in 2019 , I spent $ 245.50 through Fandango , the movie-ticket-buying site .
It ’ s an imprecise figure in terms of my @ @ @ @ @ @ @ t buy all my tickets through the app , for one thing , and occasionally ( occasionally ! )
I allow friends to accompany me , buying their tickets or letting them get mine .
But it ’ s a figure .
And looking at my credit card bill , I see three charges just in February — a notably crappy month for movies — totaling $ 52 , all for movies I saw solo ( Birds of Prey , Downhill , and The Photograph ; judge me on your own time ) @ @ @ @ @ @ @ up that clip , I feel like there ’ s , at minimum , another $ 250 that never saw its time in the spotlight .
I ’ m thinking of leaving the cash in a little envelope outside my local theater , the one whose welcome song and dance still includes the warning to “ turn off all pagers and cellphones.
” I miss them and I worry about them , and I can not wait to get back inside and see stuff blow up , feeling the safest I have in @ @ @ @ @ @ @ 4,500 on child care My two daughters have been at home full-time since the middle of March .
There were some Zoom classes in the spring — even for the 2-year-old — until the school year ended .
But there was so much uncertainty about what was safe and what the protocols would look like that we didn ’ t even try to send them anywhere for the summer .
Even though my husband and I had to juggle parenting and working , it was one less thing to coordinate .
And since @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it felt safer to let them hang out with their grandparents ( outside ) once warmer weather arrived .
Then , as the new school year approached , we had a decision to make .
My older daughter was supposed to start kindergarten .
My younger daughter was supposed to go back to her toddler program at the preschool .
The thought of sending our newly minted 5-year-old into a virtual learning environment at a new school broke our hearts .
Our 2-year-old would be fine just playing all day at home .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ up the learning .
So we pulled both girls out entirely .
I have spent the last four months joking about how the 5-year-old is taking a gap year ( she ’ ll now go to kindergarten when she ’ s 6 ) .
Keeping the girls home has meant paying zero tuition or child care expenses for most of 2020 .
If we ’ d gone down one of the other paths we considered , we would have spent at least $ 4,500 — and as much as $ 15,000 .
In @ @ @ @ @ @ @ been a relief since my husband ’ s work dried up in June .
And we feel much safer having our own parents help with child care .
Just like everyone else , we are making it work as best we can .
It ’ s wonderful to witness and be present for so much of the girls ’ day .
But all four of us have frequently been low-key miserable .
I feel guilty about how they ’ re not socializing with other kids , about telling them I ’ m busy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in whatever it is they ’ re up to .
I admire my husband ’ s patience with them — and that makes me feel even guiltier when I yell because I can ’ t take the mess or the whining or whatever any longer , or when I just want to be by myself and look at my phone .
It ’ s simultaneously amazing and stressful to have them around all the time .
I think we made the right choice .
Someday we ’ ll miss the better parts of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to spend so much time with them when they were little .
I ’ m still looking forward to spending some money on child care again in 2021 .
Last year , according to the fitness class apps I use , I took somewhere in the realm of 250 boutique fitness classes .
That ’ s roughly five days a week , every week , in HIIT and boxing and spin and core , all of it sweaty and aggressive and also shamefully expensive .
With all sincerity , this is not a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I once tried to tally the cost of all those $ 20 and $ 30 classes and ceased when I found that it made my stomach ache .
So I ’ ve asked myself why I do what I do , even if I ’ m somewhat ashamed of it , and here ’ s where I ’ ve landed : childhood baggage .
I grew up in a home — immigrant , Tiger Mom-ish — where summer vacations , displays of athleticism , video games , and boys were considered distractions from @ @ @ @ @ @ @ none .
In gym class , I struggled to run a mile , to do 50 crunches , to jump rope , to evade a dodgeball .
I could read several grades above my level but couldn ’ t climb a foot of rope .
It wasn ’ t until I went to college , with no one telling me that only my brain held worth , that I discovered the gym .
I liked weightlifting and boxing most of all and found myself pushing to lift more , hit harder , and @ @ @ @ @ @ @ can now do everything I once couldn ’ t .
And I am addicted to the dizzy high of endorphins .
I would have spent upward of $ 3,500 chasing that feeling this year .
When studios closed , my connection to my own strength felt severed at first .
I ran outside , then did burpees inside , then shuffled along to Billy Blanks ’ s delightful quarantine workouts , and finally I laid around for a couple of months , weepy and lost .
Now it ’ s a struggle .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ pull on my sneakers and slip out the door into the cold air and do whatever feels right , whatever is possible .
A run or a walk , or a hike alone into the woods to marvel at the ferns and the old trees , or a now-hilariously difficult series of HIIT exercises on an elementary school turf .
I don ’ t always want to do it .
But just as I did in class , I am pushing myself — to adapt .
According to this one episode of Sex @ @ @ @ @ @ @ only allowed to call yourself a New Yorker after you ’ ve lived here for 10 years .
I reached that milestone on August 27 , 2020 , a day I ’ d been looking forward to for at least a year beforehand .
My friends and I who moved to the city for college in 2010 had ambiently discussed how we might mark the occasion : Maybe we ’ d invite everyone to a private room at a restaurant and pool our money for an unlimited open bar , which felt unspeakably @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Maybe we ’ d go the ironic route and buy “ I Heart NY ” T-shirts and get drunk at the Times Square Hard Rock Cafe .
More likely , we would have had a regular party at a dive bar or something , screaming the lyrics to “ New York , New York ” at midnight .
I actually spent August 27 scrolling through my photo roll and painstakingly crafting a treacly Instagram post about what living in the city has meant to me over the past decade .
And at the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ ve never felt more like a New Yorker than during the pandemic , which was ironically when everybody in the world started talking about how New York is over .
But honestly , I don ’ t think anyone who ’ s ever lived here actually believes that .
Even if everybody else in New York suddenly decided to leave , it would still be the only place in the world where you can throw a party after making it a full decade — and everybody understands why .
I have an @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to cry if I had to spend the $ 10 my dad gave me with the express purpose of spending it .
I become standoffish and grumpy when it ’ s time to pay the rent .
I ’ ll never say no to a free T-shirt because if I did , I would own no T-shirts .
When I ’ m asked in Animal Crossing to spend my millions of virtual money saved up on something , I demur ; what if I need that fake video game money for something important @ @ @ @ @ @ @ t .
I know I won ’ t . )
But 2020 was , well , 2020 .
For once in my life , I spent money on things I wanted , and I didn ’ t absolutely hate myself afterward .
I also spent money on things I didn ’ t want to spend money on , and in another timeline , I would have been shocked by this .
I never was much of a cook — or an eater , for reasons best saved for my therapist — and so @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , my shelves empty .
This year , I gave up my former habit of buying bodega sandwiches for dinner or getting takeout or , more often than not , eating spoonfuls of peanut butter and calling it a night .
I went to the supermarket and bought food .
I bought ingredients .
I bought condiments and spices and dressings .
I bought things to experiment and play with .
I became someone who cooked , even if not amazingly or with much variety .
I think about the money I spent @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that other version of 2020 , the one we didn ’ t get .
I wince at it , knowing what I know now : that I am fully capable of feeding myself and not resenting every minute of it .
I enjoy lifting my heavy grocery bag home once a week , putting my food away , playing Jenga with our tiny fridge .
I may miss the money I must spend to have this experience , but I am also grateful for the money I didn ’ t spend on those @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and impulsive and obligatory ones I had because I knew I ’ d have nothing else otherwise .
After four years of skating around in uniforms that , regardless of body shape and size , somehow made each of us look like a sack of sad potatoes , my roller derby league decided it was time for new , flattering uniforms .
But I wasn ’ t sure if I was going to get one because I didn ’ t really want to play anymore .
I was looking forward to the 2020 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ harder in practice and have more fun in games .
My teammate Loraine Acid was a big part of this .
She was a great athlete and a generous teammate who loved the sport and wanted to help everyone get better at it , and I wanted to be more like her .
But then Acid died , and I was angry and sad .
My usual outlet for those feelings became the source of them .
We had a tournament in April , and I was dreading it .
If derby wasn @ @ @ @ @ @ @ was time to stop .
When the pandemic hit , the choice was made for me .
At first I welcomed the distance from roller derby .
Now I just miss everything .
I miss my skates , the exercise , the sport , the bruises , but especially my teammates and friends .
I have no idea what our league will look like whenever this thing ends — people have moved away , others have lost interest , and who knows if we ’ ll get our practice space back — but @ @ @ @ @ @ @ wearing my brand new uniform when it does … even though I actually do look like a sack of sad potatoes now .
This year has been an awful reminder that we don ’ t know how much time we have with the people we love , doing the things we enjoy .
In roller derby , sometimes you get hit so hard that you don ’ t think you ’ ll ever get up again .
But you do , and we will .

The Goods devotes a lot of time to thinking about what it means to spend money: what we choose to buy, what it says about who we are as individuals and as a society, and why it all matters. That’s the focus of our essay series The Best Money I Ever Spent, where people write about the purchases they’ve made, big and small, that affect their lives.
To close out 2020, our staff wanted to take a swing at the notion of spending and value from a different angle, examining the items, experiences, and services that we may well have bought in another timeline, but certainly not in this one. Whether it was a gym pass or a year of preschool, a cheeseburger or a plane ticket to a friend’s funeral, the things we couldn’t buy this year marked how radically different our lives became compared to what we might have imagined — and raised the question of how they’ll be on the other side.
—Alanna Okun, deputy editor for The Goods
$20 on a burger
In the Before Times, a not-insignificant chunk of my budget went toward dining out at restaurants. I obsessively tracked new openings, followed every update to Eater’s heat maps, and kept a running list of spots I wanted to try.
Although I was constantly chasing the new and novel, there was one place I returned to regularly over the years: Rose’s, a neighborhood bar down the street from my apartment in Brooklyn. They had an amazing burger, arguably one of the best I’d had in New York, though I always felt it was just a tad too expensive — $19, plus an extra buck if you wanted Gruyere, which of course you did.
Rose’s became a constant in my life, there for all occasions. I went with my husband dozens of times and frequently brought various groups of friends. I spent delightful evenings in the backyard garden or sitting in one of the booths or playing trivia on Monday nights. It was a perfect neighborhood bar: always there to welcome you with open arms, to serve you something delicious and greasy to cure whatever ailed you.
Every time we went, we’d still grumble about how the burger was too expensive — $20! — but we’d order it anyway and never regretted it. Sometimes I’d go in a group and everyone at the table would order the burger. But we were paying for so much more than just the excellent food; I loved the comfort and familiarity of returning to a place that had always been welcoming, a place where I had made so many fun memories.
This year, of course, the restaurant industry has been hit hard by the pandemic, and dining indoors with groups of friends has become a thing of the past. Like many other restaurants, Rose’s was forced to shut down permanently. I’m still mourning the loss. I know that if the pandemic hadn’t happened, I would have logged a dozen more visits this year. I wish I still had the chance to spend $20 on a burger there now.
—Nisha Chittal, director of audience
$262.78 on an airline ticket
Steve, my lovely friend, died in March. It happened just as the coronavirus pandemic was transitioning from, “Oh, maybe it will hit us” to “Oh, it’s too late.” We were the same age — 30 — and it hadn’t even been a year since Steve was diagnosed with the cancer that killed him.
Steve was a former roommate. I lived with him, his wife (then his fiancée), and a cast of four or so other roommates in a house in Arlington, Virginia. Before we lived together we were strangers, but when we met, we were at the same phase of life: just graduated college, just moved to the Washington, DC, area for the first time, ready to start on whatever it was we were supposed to become. Steve loved to cook; so did I. We spent weekdays talking about the ambitious things we’d cook over the weekend. Nothing makes a house feel like a home more than having someone to cook with.
After two years in the house, Steve and his wife, Kim, moved back to Michigan. I was going to fly to Michigan for Steve’s funeral; Kim was so happy all the former roommates were going to be there. We hadn’t seen one another for years.
I paid for a ticket. And then I continued to read and report the news. I knew I couldn’t go. I felt horrible telling everyone else. I felt terrible implying, by my absence, that maybe other people shouldn’t go either. But when I told them, they understood. I had been reporting on the virus for weeks, but it was just dawning on them too: Whatever horrible things happen in life, the pandemic was going to make them more horrible.
So I canceled the flight; now I have $262.78 in unspent flight credits on Spirit, America’s least accommodating airline. I don’t know what to do with it.
—Brian Resnick, science reporter
$250 in solo movie tickets
2020 was going to be a banner year for my favorite activity: seeing movies in the theater by myself. I miss it so much, being all alone to cry or laugh in the darkness while still enjoying the social pressure that keeps me from looking at my phone. Also, the really gargantuan quantities of diet soda.
How much money did I save? Well, none, obviously. I spent it on garbage like an HBO Max subscription that doesn’t work on my Roku. But in 2019, I spent $245.50 through Fandango, the movie-ticket-buying site. It’s an imprecise figure in terms of my actual moviegoing habits — I don’t buy all my tickets through the app, for one thing, and occasionally (occasionally!) I allow friends to accompany me, buying their tickets or letting them get mine. But it’s a figure.
And looking at my credit card bill, I see three charges just in February — a notably crappy month for movies — totaling $52, all for movies I saw solo (Birds of Prey, Downhill, and The Photograph; judge me on your own time).
While I might not have kept up that clip, I feel like there’s, at minimum, another $250 that never saw its time in the spotlight. I’m thinking of leaving the cash in a little envelope outside my local theater, the one whose welcome song and dance still includes the warning to “turn off all pagers and cellphones.” I miss them and I worry about them, and I cannot wait to get back inside and see stuff blow up, feeling the safest I have in a long time.
—Meredith Haggerty, deputy editor for The Goods
At least $4,500 on child care
My two daughters have been at home full-time since the middle of March. There were some Zoom classes in the spring — even for the 2-year-old — until the school year ended. But there was so much uncertainty about what was safe and what the protocols would look like that we didn’t even try to send them anywhere for the summer. Even though my husband and I had to juggle parenting and working, it was one less thing to coordinate. And since none of us were going anywhere, it felt safer to let them hang out with their grandparents (outside) once warmer weather arrived.
Then, as the new school year approached, we had a decision to make. My older daughter was supposed to start kindergarten. My younger daughter was supposed to go back to her toddler program at the preschool.
The thought of sending our newly minted 5-year-old into a virtual learning environment at a new school broke our hearts. Our 2-year-old would be fine just playing all day at home. They have plenty of time to make up the learning. So we pulled both girls out entirely. I have spent the last four months joking about how the 5-year-old is taking a gap year (she’ll now go to kindergarten when she’s 6).
Keeping the girls home has meant paying zero tuition or child care expenses for most of 2020. If we’d gone down one of the other paths we considered, we would have spent at least $4,500 — and as much as $15,000. In many ways, saving the money has been a relief since my husband’s work dried up in June. And we feel much safer having our own parents help with child care. Just like everyone else, we are making it work as best we can.
It’s wonderful to witness and be present for so much of the girls’ day. But all four of us have frequently been low-key miserable. I feel guilty about how they’re not socializing with other kids, about telling them I’m busy working when they want me to join in whatever it is they’re up to.
I admire my husband’s patience with them — and that makes me feel even guiltier when I yell because I can’t take the mess or the whining or whatever any longer, or when I just want to be by myself and look at my phone. It’s simultaneously amazing and stressful to have them around all the time.
I think we made the right choice. Someday we’ll miss the better parts of this experience and feel lucky we got to spend so much time with them when they were little. I’m still looking forward to spending some money on child care again in 2021.
—Jen Trolio, senior culture editor
$3,750 on fitness classes
Last year, according to the fitness class apps I use, I took somewhere in the realm of 250 boutique fitness classes. That’s roughly five days a week, every week, in HIIT and boxing and spin and core, all of it sweaty and aggressive and also shamefully expensive.
With all sincerity, this is not a weird flex. Before the pandemic, I once tried to tally the cost of all those $20 and $30 classes and ceased when I found that it made my stomach ache. So I’ve asked myself why I do what I do, even if I’m somewhat ashamed of it, and here’s where I’ve landed: childhood baggage.
I grew up in a home — immigrant, Tiger Mom-ish — where summer vacations, displays of athleticism, video games, and boys were considered distractions from academic pursuits. So I partook in none. In gym class, I struggled to run a mile, to do 50 crunches, to jump rope, to evade a dodgeball. I could read several grades above my level but couldn’t climb a foot of rope.
It wasn’t until I went to college, with no one telling me that only my brain held worth, that I discovered the gym. I liked weightlifting and boxing most of all and found myself pushing to lift more, hit harder, and go longer. I like knowing I can now do everything I once couldn’t. And I am addicted to the dizzy high of endorphins.
I would have spent upward of $3,500 chasing that feeling this year. When studios closed, my connection to my own strength felt severed at first. I ran outside, then did burpees inside, then shuffled along to Billy Blanks’s delightful quarantine workouts, and finally I laid around for a couple of months, weepy and lost.
Now it’s a struggle. But after work, I try to pull on my sneakers and slip out the door into the cold air and do whatever feels right, whatever is possible. A run or a walk, or a hike alone into the woods to marvel at the ferns and the old trees, or a now-hilariously difficult series of HIIT exercises on an elementary school turf. I don’t always want to do it. But just as I did in class, I am pushing myself — to adapt.
—Lavanya Ramanathan, senior features editor of The Highlight
$500 on a “real New Yorker” party
According to this one episode of Sex and the City, you’re only allowed to call yourself a New Yorker after you’ve lived here for 10 years. I reached that milestone on August 27, 2020, a day I’d been looking forward to for at least a year beforehand.
My friends and I who moved to the city for college in 2010 had ambiently discussed how we might mark the occasion: Maybe we’d invite everyone to a private room at a restaurant and pool our money for an unlimited open bar, which felt unspeakably glamorous to a bunch of 28-year-olds. Maybe we’d go the ironic route and buy “I Heart NY” T-shirts and get drunk at the Times Square Hard Rock Cafe. More likely, we would have had a regular party at a dive bar or something, screaming the lyrics to “New York, New York” at midnight.
I actually spent August 27 scrolling through my photo roll and painstakingly crafting a treacly Instagram post about what living in the city has meant to me over the past decade. And at the risk of sounding completely insufferable, I’ve never felt more like a New Yorker than during the pandemic, which was ironically when everybody in the world started talking about how New York is over.
But honestly, I don’t think anyone who’s ever lived here actually believes that. Even if everybody else in New York suddenly decided to leave, it would still be the only place in the world where you can throw a party after making it a full decade — and everybody understands why.
—Rebecca Jennings, reporter for The Goods
An incalculable fortune on takeout
I have an uncomfortable relationship with money. I used to cry if I had to spend the $10 my dad gave me with the express purpose of spending it. I become standoffish and grumpy when it’s time to pay the rent. I’ll never say no to a free T-shirt because if I did, I would own no T-shirts. When I’m asked in Animal Crossing to spend my millions of virtual money saved up on something, I demur; what if I need that fake video game money for something important one day? (I won’t. I know I won’t.)
But 2020 was, well, 2020. For once in my life, I spent money on things I wanted, and I didn’t absolutely hate myself afterward.
I also spent money on things I didn’t want to spend money on, and in another timeline, I would have been shocked by this. I never was much of a cook — or an eater, for reasons best saved for my therapist — and so my grocery trips used to be limited, my shelves empty. This year, I gave up my former habit of buying bodega sandwiches for dinner or getting takeout or, more often than not, eating spoonfuls of peanut butter and calling it a night. I went to the supermarket and bought food. I bought ingredients. I bought condiments and spices and dressings. I bought things to experiment and play with. I became someone who cooked, even if not amazingly or with much variety.
I think about the money I spent on brunches and lazy late-night meals in that other version of 2020, the one we didn’t get. I wince at it, knowing what I know now: that I am fully capable of feeding myself and not resenting every minute of it. I enjoy lifting my heavy grocery bag home once a week, putting my food away, playing Jenga with our tiny fridge. I may miss the money I must spend to have this experience, but I am also grateful for the money I didn’t spend on those much more ephemeral meals, the overpriced and impulsive and obligatory ones I had because I knew I’d have nothing else otherwise.
—Allegra Frank, associate culture editor
$70 on a roller derby uniform
After four years of skating around in uniforms that, regardless of body shape and size, somehow made each of us look like a sack of sad potatoes, my roller derby league decided it was time for new, flattering uniforms. But I wasn’t sure if I was going to get one because I didn’t really want to play anymore.
I was looking forward to the 2020 season. I had resolved to work harder in practice and have more fun in games. My teammate Loraine Acid was a big part of this. She was a great athlete and a generous teammate who loved the sport and wanted to help everyone get better at it, and I wanted to be more like her.
But then Acid died, and I was angry and sad. My usual outlet for those feelings became the source of them. We had a tournament in April, and I was dreading it. If derby wasn’t fun anymore, maybe it was time to stop.
When the pandemic hit, the choice was made for me. At first I welcomed the distance from roller derby. Now I just miss everything. I miss my skates, the exercise, the sport, the bruises, but especially my teammates and friends. I have no idea what our league will look like whenever this thing ends — people have moved away, others have lost interest, and who knows if we’ll get our practice space back — but I do know that I will be wearing my brand new uniform when it does … even though I actually do look like a sack of sad potatoes now.
This year has been an awful reminder that we don’t know how much time we have with the people we love, doing the things we enjoy. In roller derby, sometimes you get hit so hard that you don’t think you’ll ever get up again. But you do, and we will.
—Sara Morrison, reporter for Recode


vox--2020-12-31--The Lost Year: Exercise in quarantine, keeping a business alive, and the unusual intimacy of Zoom

This is The Lost Year , a series of stories about our lived experiences in 2020 , as told to Vox critic at large Emily VanDerWerff .
Zoom fatigue is real .
In early May , I asked a good friend of mine if she wanted to hop on Zoom , and she sighed .
“ I ’ m so sick of Zoom , ” she said .
“ I just can ’ t do it anymore.
” For so many of us , the endless array of virtual meetings at work and virtual hangouts with friends takes a toll @ @ @ @ @ @ @ re not actually in a room with people .
So when I talked to Melanie — a Seattle fitness studio owner who has switched to teaching classes via Zoom — I expected to hear a full consideration of what Zoom fatigue truly means .
After all , fitness classes are not the easiest thing to adapt for a videoconferencing environment .
But Melanie made me totally rethink the concept of Zoom fatigue and just what we mean when we talk about it .
Not only is she teaching fitness classes via Zoom , @ @ @ @ @ @ @ a group of college friends to play Dungeons & Dragons , just like they used to back in the day .
“ It ’ s almost like we ’ ve connected our two rooms together , ” Melanie said as we chatted over — you guessed it — Zoom .
“ There ’ s an intimacy about that.
” She ’ s right , and I loved the way she made me reevaluate this piece of technology that ’ s become so ubiquitous because of the pandemic .
This is Melanie ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
A lot of independent boutique fitness studios will probably say this : Our studio is like a community .
We have people who come in to be with us , and when I say “ us , ” I ’ m not just talking about the instructors .
I ’ m talking about fellow students .
In the before-coronavirus times , people would come in for our Sunday classes and then go to lunch afterward .
It ’ s a big friend group .
Keeping that going , to me , was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ lifeline .
I don ’ t have very big classes but when we meet up [ over Zoom ] , we check in with each other .
We see how we ’ re doing .
I teach a fitness form called Nia , which is very much about having a focus and an intent .
This week , for instance , the focus is posture and our intent is to connect to the dancer within .
There ’ s an element of it that ’ s intellectualizing , but it ’ s also @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to each other .
Being able to see each other on screen and have a good time , that ’ s been really medicinal for me .
A lot of fitness instructors who have gone on Zoom have said , “ Pay what you can .
Maybe don ’ t pay at all.
” I believe in a sliding scale .
I would rather , if someone wants to dance and wants to move and they don ’ t have money , that they come to us .
We ’ ll work something @ @ @ @ @ @ @ away their talent for free , that drives down our ability to make money .
Particularly for yoga and other modalities that are well served , you can get yoga for free online or with an Amazon Prime subscription .
That makes it very difficult for someone to keep a studio open .
When the pandemic began , people would give out their Zoom links , and people would come in with the link and never pay their instructor .
That instructor still has to pay their rent .
They have to buy @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I have a job in addition to the studio , and my business partner also has a job .
But we still have to pay rent on the studio space even though we can ’ t go in it .
Reminding people of these things is really important .
Some people can ’ t pay , and I tell them the door is open .
But we ’ ve had people who have jobs and keep paying for the service because they ’ re interested in keeping the studio open .
There ’ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in your community .
And it ’ s not just fitness studios .
Small businesses everywhere that have the ability to have some sort of an online virtual presence , it ’ s really important to support them and help them go on because that way , when this is over , you can still go and have the fabric of your community .
My Sunday in-person classes used to regularly bring in 20 people or so .
Now , if it ’ s around 10 , that ’ s good .
A @ @ @ @ @ @ @ don ’ t want to be on Zoom .
They ’ re on Zoom all the time for meetings , or Zoom is not really made for fitness classes .
It ’ s choppy .
So the people who are sticking with us are sticking with us because they want to keep our space open .
We have playlists and routines that are very consciously emotionally stirring .
That ’ s part of what we do .
But that gets lost when you don ’ t have a bunch of people experiencing that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is a kind of vibration , even if you just have five people together .
If you ’ re doing something really cool , or if you laugh if I lose my balance , everybody is having a good time .
That gets lost .
And yet with Zoom , there is a different connection .
It won ’ t replicate the in-person experience .
But there is a one-on-one connection with the instructor .
I do my absolute best to connect with everybody who comes into my class .
I might even @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s doing !
” and people will look and see how cool it is .
It ’ s a different kind of connection but it ’ s still sustaining .
I ’ ve been thinking about Zoom fatigue in the context of a movement class .
If I ’ m up and moving and dancing for people , I almost feel like I ’ m not only getting exercise for myself , I ’ m also encouraging people and hopefully lifting them up .
There ’ s a bit of a performance @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I ’ ve been teaching recently have been very consciously sunny as the days in Seattle get shorter and darker and gloomier .
The one I have right now is very focused on dancers , so I might send people a picture of flamenco dancers or a clip of Bob Fosse and I ’ ll say , “ Look at their posture.
” It ’ s good to bring people into this experience where it ’ s healthy and invigorating .
But you ’ re also putting on a show for yourself .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ Zoom .
I don ’ t get Zoom fatigue when I think about it that way .
When I think about Zoom fatigue is when I have meeting after meeting after meeting and I have to be on screen in a certain way , if there are parts of me that I feel like I need to keep battened down at a certain level and I have to maintain that level for eight hours and I have to do it through a screen .
You have to decide if you need to wear @ @ @ @ @ @ @ great or know what people are seeing in the background .
There are all these little X factors that we don ’ t think about when we ’ re in person .
I already worked from home in my other job as a writer .
Adding Zoom to that wasn ’ t a lot of change .
I still do phone interviews .
I meet with my co-workers .
Right now I ’ m much more casual about my hair being a wreck or whatever .
But it wasn ’ t a big @ @ @ @ @ @ @ now as a Black woman , at a time when the pandemic is killing off a lot of Black people in general , that I get to work from home .
When the pandemic first began , I had to remind people when they would ask , “ Why are people out there [ working ] ?
” that those people have no choice .
A lot of the people who are getting sick don ’ t have a choice .
If I have Zoom fatigue , I can take a half-hour nap @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that luxury .
Zoom is also rebuilding connections for me .
My friends and I played Dungeons & Dragons in college — we were in Chicago in the dead of winter , and we had no money .
It was the best way to kill an entire weekend .
And then we left college , and everybody went their separate ways .
In the summer of 2019 , we went to visit my friend in San Francisco , and we didn ’ t know what to do .
He said , “ I @ @ @ @ @ @ @ game .
Let ’ s do that.
” It was fun but we never finished it .
The pandemic happened , and he called up and said , “ Why don ’ t we finish that game over Zoom ?
” So we did .
I told a couple of friends , and they said , “ I would totally do that with you !
” We invited another friend who started being our dungeon master .
For playing D & D , the Zoom experience has been great .
My college friends @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Zoom than we have in years .
Like my friend I used to play with in college , who worked in government and quit and now works in Virginia as a gentlewoman farmer , I had seen her maybe once in the last 10 years and now I see her every month .
I ’ m connecting with people that I care about on a face-to-face basis much more than I had before .
This whole experience has brought home the idea of making sure that the weave of your social fabric is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ When we finally get back in the studio , I ’ ve had a couple of people ask , “ Are you going to keep doing online classes ?
” And I said , “ Yeah.
” This is the new world .
We have to maintain the connection .
My husband and I were in a long-distance marriage for five years and would watch Buffy together on the phone .
There was a real sweetness about that because we would be having a singular experience on a screen in front of us @ @ @ @ @ @ @ see each other .
There was this screen where we shared this story that we both loved and connected with , and we could talk about it while it was happening and then be on the phone afterward to talk about it and also be like , “ I miss you .
I love you.
” Zoom is also having a shared screen experience .
Part of the Dungeons & Dragons magic , for instance , is that you ’ re having a shared experience and you ’ re actually seeing the other @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I can see you now , and it ’ s almost like you ’ re sitting across from me .
You could say , “ Oh , there ’ s Mel , and there ’ s a lamp behind her and the messy bookcase , ” and I can see your picture behind you .
It ’ s almost like we ’ ve connected our two rooms together .
There ’ s an intimacy about that .
But it ’ s not everything .
I was watching Lovers Rock , one of the @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s a scene at a house party where they pull the music out and everybody is still dancing and singing together .
They ’ re just close .
God , I miss that .
I want to have all those people who I ’ ve been playing Dungeons & Dragons with , or been in class with , and have moments that aren ’ t just virtual .
The virtual connection has facilitated not feeling so alone .
But at the same time , it ’ s made me so aware of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ can spend together .
Next : A quiet year , alone in one ’ s head

This is The Lost Year, a series of stories about our lived experiences in 2020, as told to Vox critic at large Emily VanDerWerff.
Zoom fatigue is real. In early May, I asked a good friend of mine if she wanted to hop on Zoom, and she sighed. “I’m so sick of Zoom,” she said. “I just can’t do it anymore.” For so many of us, the endless array of virtual meetings at work and virtual hangouts with friends takes a toll that only further reminds us we’re not actually in a room with people.
So when I talked to Melanie — a Seattle fitness studio owner who has switched to teaching classes via Zoom — I expected to hear a full consideration of what Zoom fatigue truly means. After all, fitness classes are not the easiest thing to adapt for a videoconferencing environment. But Melanie made me totally rethink the concept of Zoom fatigue and just what we mean when we talk about it. Not only is she teaching fitness classes via Zoom, but she’s also reconnected with a group of college friends to play Dungeons & Dragons, just like they used to back in the day.
“It’s almost like we’ve connected our two rooms together,” Melanie said as we chatted over — you guessed it — Zoom. “There’s an intimacy about that.” She’s right, and I loved the way she made me reevaluate this piece of technology that’s become so ubiquitous because of the pandemic.
This is Melanie’s 2020 story, as told to me.
A lot of independent boutique fitness studios will probably say this: Our studio is like a community. We have people who come in to be with us, and when I say “us,” I’m not just talking about the instructors. I’m talking about fellow students. In the before-coronavirus times, people would come in for our Sunday classes and then go to lunch afterward. It’s a big friend group.
Keeping that going, to me, was nonnegotiable. It’s been a lifeline. I don’t have very big classes but when we meet up [over Zoom], we check in with each other. We see how we’re doing. I teach a fitness form called Nia, which is very much about having a focus and an intent. This week, for instance, the focus is posture and our intent is to connect to the dancer within. There’s an element of it that’s intellectualizing, but it’s also getting to know the body and connecting to each other. Being able to see each other on screen and have a good time, that’s been really medicinal for me.
A lot of fitness instructors who have gone on Zoom have said, “Pay what you can. Maybe don’t pay at all.” I believe in a sliding scale. I would rather, if someone wants to dance and wants to move and they don’t have money, that they come to us. We’ll work something out. But if people are giving away their talent for free, that drives down our ability to make money. Particularly for yoga and other modalities that are well served, you can get yoga for free online or with an Amazon Prime subscription. That makes it very difficult for someone to keep a studio open.
When the pandemic began, people would give out their Zoom links, and people would come in with the link and never pay their instructor. That instructor still has to pay their rent. They have to buy groceries. I’m fortunate that I have a job in addition to the studio, and my business partner also has a job. But we still have to pay rent on the studio space even though we can’t go in it. Reminding people of these things is really important.
Some people can’t pay, and I tell them the door is open. But we’ve had people who have jobs and keep paying for the service because they’re interested in keeping the studio open. There’s lots of opportunities to do that in your community. And it’s not just fitness studios. Small businesses everywhere that have the ability to have some sort of an online virtual presence, it’s really important to support them and help them go on because that way, when this is over, you can still go and have the fabric of your community.
My Sunday in-person classes used to regularly bring in 20 people or so. Now, if it’s around 10, that’s good. A lot of that is people who just don’t want to be on Zoom. They’re on Zoom all the time for meetings, or Zoom is not really made for fitness classes. It’s choppy. So the people who are sticking with us are sticking with us because they want to keep our space open.
We have playlists and routines that are very consciously emotionally stirring. That’s part of what we do. But that gets lost when you don’t have a bunch of people experiencing that together in the same room. There is a kind of vibration, even if you just have five people together. If you’re doing something really cool, or if you laugh if I lose my balance, everybody is having a good time. That gets lost.
And yet with Zoom, there is a different connection. It won’t replicate the in-person experience. But there is a one-on-one connection with the instructor. I do my absolute best to connect with everybody who comes into my class. I might even say, “Look at what Judy’s doing!” and people will look and see how cool it is. It’s a different kind of connection but it’s still sustaining.
I’ve been thinking about Zoom fatigue in the context of a movement class. If I’m up and moving and dancing for people, I almost feel like I’m not only getting exercise for myself, I’m also encouraging people and hopefully lifting them up. There’s a bit of a performance aspect to it. And the routines I’ve been teaching recently have been very consciously sunny as the days in Seattle get shorter and darker and gloomier. The one I have right now is very focused on dancers, so I might send people a picture of flamenco dancers or a clip of Bob Fosse and I’ll say, “Look at their posture.” It’s good to bring people into this experience where it’s healthy and invigorating. But you’re also putting on a show for yourself. That’s a real opportunity with Zoom.
I don’t get Zoom fatigue when I think about it that way. When I think about Zoom fatigue is when I have meeting after meeting after meeting and I have to be on screen in a certain way, if there are parts of me that I feel like I need to keep battened down at a certain level and I have to maintain that level for eight hours and I have to do it through a screen. You have to decide if you need to wear makeup or make sure your lighting is great or know what people are seeing in the background. There are all these little X factors that we don’t think about when we’re in person.
I already worked from home in my other job as a writer. Adding Zoom to that wasn’t a lot of change. I still do phone interviews. I meet with my co-workers. Right now I’m much more casual about my hair being a wreck or whatever. But it wasn’t a big change. I feel super lucky right now as a Black woman, at a time when the pandemic is killing off a lot of Black people in general, that I get to work from home.
When the pandemic first began, I had to remind people when they would ask, “Why are people out there [working]?” that those people have no choice. A lot of the people who are getting sick don’t have a choice. If I have Zoom fatigue, I can take a half-hour nap. Front-line workers don’t have that luxury.
Zoom is also rebuilding connections for me. My friends and I played Dungeons & Dragons in college — we were in Chicago in the dead of winter, and we had no money. It was the best way to kill an entire weekend. And then we left college, and everybody went their separate ways.
In the summer of 2019, we went to visit my friend in San Francisco, and we didn’t know what to do. He said, “I have this really short D&D game. Let’s do that.” It was fun but we never finished it. The pandemic happened, and he called up and said, “Why don’t we finish that game over Zoom?” So we did. I told a couple of friends, and they said, “I would totally do that with you!” We invited another friend who started being our dungeon master.
For playing D&D, the Zoom experience has been great. My college friends and I are hanging out more over Zoom than we have in years. Like my friend I used to play with in college, who worked in government and quit and now works in Virginia as a gentlewoman farmer, I had seen her maybe once in the last 10 years and now I see her every month. I’m connecting with people that I care about on a face-to-face basis much more than I had before.
This whole experience has brought home the idea of making sure that the weave of your social fabric is together, by any means necessary. When we finally get back in the studio, I’ve had a couple of people ask, “Are you going to keep doing online classes?” And I said, “Yeah.” This is the new world. We have to maintain the connection.
My husband and I were in a long-distance marriage for five years and would watch Buffy together on the phone. There was a real sweetness about that because we would be having a singular experience on a screen in front of us, even though we couldn’t see each other. There was this screen where we shared this story that we both loved and connected with, and we could talk about it while it was happening and then be on the phone afterward to talk about it and also be like, “I miss you. I love you.”
Zoom is also having a shared screen experience. Part of the Dungeons & Dragons magic, for instance, is that you’re having a shared experience and you’re actually seeing the other person sharing the experience. Like, I can see you now, and it’s almost like you’re sitting across from me. You could say, “Oh, there’s Mel, and there’s a lamp behind her and the messy bookcase,” and I can see your picture behind you. It’s almost like we’ve connected our two rooms together. There’s an intimacy about that.
But it’s not everything. I was watching Lovers Rock, one of the installments of Small Axe, and there’s a scene at a house party where they pull the music out and everybody is still dancing and singing together. They’re just close. God, I miss that. I want to have all those people who I’ve been playing Dungeons & Dragons with, or been in class with, and have moments that aren’t just virtual. The virtual connection has facilitated not feeling so alone. But at the same time, it’s made me so aware of not taking for granted the times we can spend together.
Next: A quiet year, alone in one’s head


vox--2020-12-31--Stories from a Lost Year

Stories from a Lost Year

Life in 2020 has been dominated by big stories .
The Covid-19 pandemic .
Protests against multiple centuries of systemic racism and injustice .
An impeachment .
A presidential election .
Murder hornets .
But beneath every one of these big stories is a long list of smaller personal ones .
Everyone ’ s experience of 2020 has been different , and everyone ’ s story has something worth hearing .
I went looking for those stories , in hopes of understanding the events of this year from the ground level .
What I found was remarkable .
I talked @ @ @ @ @ @ @ baby pig back to health .
I talked to a sex worker who very quickly had to figure out how to make his business Covid-19-safe .
I discussed opening up a marriage — at a time when nobody can see anybody in person — with someone who did just that .
I talked to a woman who fell in love with her mailman , and a postal carrier who grew distressed at how little her rural community seemed to be taking Covid-19 seriously .
I ’ ll be sharing 14 of those stories @ @ @ @ @ @ @ think they all underline the fact that no matter how dramatic or mundane your year was , it was that much more fascinating or difficult or compelling because of the times in which it took place .
This year is almost over , and another will follow .
I ’ m so glad we all got through it together .
We ’ ve lost so much in 2020 .
But we ’ ve found some things , too .
A woman , an injured baby pig , and a series of revelations “ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ is holy lying under the stars with friends and a pig sleeping in the crook of your arm.
” Non-monogamy , Zoom sex , and the agonizing wait to kiss your partner “ As soon as I started taking non-monogamy seriously , it was like any other coming out.
” A dad , his son , and the bittersweet realization of life ’ s true priorities “ In America , we say everything we do is for our child , but we spend a lot of time working and accumulating money and stuff @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Coming out — over the phone , to your mom , and across a language barrier “ I can ’ t do any of my old standup comedy .
And I don ’ t want to do it .
I literally am starting over from scratch.
” Marriage , kids , two jobs , maskless customers , and # BlackLivesMatter in the rural South “ The first couple weeks , I sucked at life .
I sucked at everything.
” A sudden crisis , online sex work , and a better understanding of @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the loneliness for some customers .
I ’ m talking to them because they ’ re paying.
” A new dress , a new self-acceptance , and a sudden onset of the soul “ That day , for the first time , I saw myself .
And I knew I was trans .
Holy shit.
” Falling for your mailman in lockdown ( but not getting the happy ending you wanted ) “ I asked him , ‘ How ’ s everything going ?
How can we help ?
’ And I accidentally @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Chronic pain , an unusual love story , and reassurance via pickle “ There are certain ways — and maybe it ’ s not cool to say this — in which quarantine has been helpful.
” A new baby who didn ’ t know your face for days because you were always wearing a mask “ I love just looking at his face when he sees there are other people in the world !
” Making your workplace Covid-safe — when you ’ re an escort “ I haven ’ t contracted Covid @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , because my bubble is probably huge.
” A year in the life of a mail carrier .
( The year is 2020 . )
“ It feels like I ’ ve never stopped playing Russian roulette because I never stopped working.
” Exercise in quarantine , keeping a small business alive , and the unusual intimacy of Zoom “ It ’ s been a lifeline .
I don ’ t have very big classes but when we meet up [ over Zoom ] , we check in with each other .
We @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ”

Life in 2020 has been dominated by big stories. The Covid-19 pandemic. Protests against multiple centuries of systemic racism and injustice. An impeachment. A presidential election. Murder hornets.
But beneath every one of these big stories is a long list of smaller personal ones. Everyone’s experience of 2020 has been different, and everyone’s story has something worth hearing. I went looking for those stories, in hopes of understanding the events of this year from the ground level.
What I found was remarkable. I talked to a woman who nursed an injured baby pig back to health. I talked to a sex worker who very quickly had to figure out how to make his business Covid-19-safe. I discussed opening up a marriage — at a time when nobody can see anybody in person — with someone who did just that. I talked to a woman who fell in love with her mailman, and a postal carrier who grew distressed at how little her rural community seemed to be taking Covid-19 seriously.
I’ll be sharing 14 of those stories over the next few weeks. I think they all underline the fact that no matter how dramatic or mundane your year was, it was that much more fascinating or difficult or compelling because of the times in which it took place.
This year is almost over, and another will follow. I’m so glad we all got through it together.
We’ve lost so much in 2020. But we’ve found some things, too.
“It’s easier to believe everything is holy lying under the stars with friends and a pig sleeping in the crook of your arm.”
“As soon as I started taking non-monogamy seriously, it was like any other coming out.”
“In America, we say everything we do is for our child, but we spend a lot of time working and accumulating money and stuff that we don’t need.”
“I can’t do any of my old standup comedy. And I don’t want to do it. I literally am starting over from scratch.”
“The first couple weeks, I sucked at life. I sucked at everything.”
“Online sex work has amplified the loneliness for some customers. I’m talking to them because they’re paying.”
“That day, for the first time, I saw myself. And I knew I was trans. Holy shit.”
“I asked him, ‘How’s everything going? How can we help?’ And I accidentally told him that I loved him.”
“There are certain ways — and maybe it’s not cool to say this — in which quarantine has been helpful.”
“I love just looking at his face when he sees there are other people in the world!”
“I haven’t contracted Covid yet. I’ve been lucky, because my bubble is probably huge.”
“It feels like I’ve never stopped playing Russian roulette because I never stopped working.”
“It’s been a lifeline. I don’t have very big classes but when we meet up [over Zoom], we check in with each other. We see how we’re doing.”
“Your to-do list, some days, it has just the one thing on it: Stay alive. And if you can do that, it’s a successful day.”


vox--2020-01-31--Odd Job: This teen bought a bunch of vending machines. Now he makes six figures.

Here ’ s a little-known fact : Vending machines are independent entities .
They aren ’ t leased by PepsiCo , the Coca-Cola Company doesn ’ t send drivers out every evening to restock soda cans , and Wrigley never receives the four quarters you plunked into the bowels of your laundromat ’ s confectionery display for a months-old bag of Skittles .
Instead , the vending industry is the provenance of people like Jaime Ibanez , a 19-year old who owns 25 machines in eight locations around the Dallas-Fort Worth area , all under the banner of his own @ @ @ @ @ @ @ me that working in vending machines is comically hermetic .
He wakes up early and checks an app on his phone called MoMa , which gives him a snapshot of the specific items that have been purchased from the card readers on his machines .
Then it ’ s off to Sam ’ s Club , where he buys chips , pretzels , and candy bars in giant shrink-wrapped multipacks .
Ibanez hauls the goods around in the back of his car along the eternal highways of North Texas until his vending machines @ @ @ @ @ @ @ All of this labor is undertaken by Ibanez and his girlfriend , Lizbeth Galvan .
( He doesn ’ t pay her a salary , but the vending machines pay for their shared rent and bills . )
The couple makes each trip together , and usually , they ’ re back at home around 4 in the afternoon .
Ibanez is a licensed vending machine owner , but many of his day-to-day responsibilities look like those of a job in the gig economy : the sunk costs of the supplies and mileage @ @ @ @ @ @ @ selling of corporate products with limited oversight and liability from the corporations themselves .
It feels very much in line with how many young people make their money in 2020 .
Ibanez actually gets most of his income from his YouTube channel , where he keeps his 273,000 subscribers updated on the daily hustle of a vending baron .
In total , Ibanez tells me his channel earns him an extra $ 10,000 a month , which is triple the amount he makes from the quarters and dollar bills he rustles from his @ @ @ @ @ @ @ that talking about his business in front of a camera is exponentially more profitable than operating the business itself .
We talked about that , as well as why he wanted to pivot from getting his real estate license to purchasing vending machines and the biggest mistake young investors make in such a deregulated industry .
The following transcript of our conversation has been lightly edited for length and clarity .
How did you get into this business ?
I graduated high school in 2018 and planned on going to real estate school @ @ @ @ @ @ @ , I saw a YouTube video of someone who does the same thing that I do now .
It seemed fun to me : The guy was just going around taking all this money out of these machines , and he said he basically worked once a day .
Two days later , I went out and bought my first vending machine .
I think a lot of people think vending machines are owned by some corporation , rather than by individual people .
What is this grind like ?
Is it super @ @ @ @ @ @ @ deals with a company like Coca-Cola , or do you just buy stuff and put it in the machine ?
Yeah , it ’ s a lot more simple than people think .
You can buy a vending machine used from Craigslist , and you get your business license .
You go to door-to-door talking to business owners and offering the service .
You say , “ Hey , we ’ re a vending machine company .
Do you want to work with us ?
” You can make a contract with them @ @ @ @ @ @ @ any contracts with anyone I work with , but you can do that .
Do those clients get a portion of the profits ?
Normally yes , but I ’ ve got 25 machines , and I only give commission to one owner .
A lot of owners don ’ t even know how it works .
Some of them ask me , “ How much do you charge ?
” Which is crazy , that vending machine owners would actually charge to set up their machines .
But yeah , I just @ @ @ @ @ @ @ date for me to install the machine , and I fill it up every two weeks .
You mentioned getting a business license .
Do you have to be an LLC or something to do this the right way ?
Yeah , you need a license and a tax ID , to do it legally .
Especially because it ’ s food and drinks .
We are a food and drink company .
On a normal day , when we go to restock the machines , I like to wake up really early @ @ @ @ @ @ @ offices and warehouses .
Sam ’ s Club doesn ’ t open ’ til 7 , so I ’ ll get up at 6 , I go online — I can see what ’ s been selling at my machines from the credit card scanners , so it tells me exactly what drinks and chips are gone .
I write down what I have to buy , and I separate the products in boxes .
Then I head off to the location .
I usually only do about two or three locations a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ YouTube , so I want to have enough stuff to shoot .
When do you get back home after all of that ?
I ’ d say around 4 pm .
Just because my locations are an hour away , and I can ’ t go to all of them in one day because of my YouTube videos .
But other people with a vending machine business can go to , like , 10 locations in one day , and not go back for two weeks .
What are the best places to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ far as profit goes ?
The most common ones would be warehouses , because workers can ’ t really leave [ that area ] .
Barber shops also .
I ’ ve got a barber shop right now and it does really well .
But not retail .
I ’ ve tried retail before , and workers there don ’ t buy anything .
How much money can you reasonably pull in a month from vending machines ?
I ’ d call a good month for 25 machines and eight locations to be @ @ @ @ @ @ @ The thing with vending machines , though , is that the net profit is only like 50 percent .
So about $ 3,000 a month .
The margins are what they are , between the food purchasing and gas .
What are the most efficient ways to buy product for your vending machines ?
So , when I first started I went to Sam ’ s and bought a bunch of random stuff .
It was trial and error , to see what worked .
But the basic stuff always works the best @ @ @ @ @ @ @ regular chips .
I ’ ve tried different kinds of candies , and the basics always do better .
I stick with that .
Sometimes I ’ ll still put a single weird item in the machines [ in the past that ’ s included Instant Ramen packs , frozen pizzas , microwave popcorn , and even milk ] , but everything else is the same .
What ’ s it like when you ’ re pulling out a bunch of quarters and nickels from a machine and trying to transfer that to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ?
It ’ s pretty annoying .
I don ’ t take the coins to the bank because I have to roll them .
I ’ m not going to sit there and do that all day .
But I ’ ve got a 5-gallon bucket in my office that I dump them into .
It ’ s about halfway full right now .
I ’ ll probably have to find a bank that takes loose change .
I ’ ll figure that out when it ’ s full .
You mentioned your @ @ @ @ @ @ @ now .
Why do you think there ’ s such a fascination for watching people work the vending machine hustle ?
I really think it ’ s the money .
The reason my channel grew is because my thumbnails were me holding a big wad of cash , and I was 18 years old with my own business .
But a lot of other people say the videos are satisfying , watching a vending machine get restocked .
Before the videos , nobody really knew how all of that worked .
What are @ @ @ @ @ @ @ in the vending machine business ?
The biggest mistake people make is not doing the research on the machines .
They don ’ t check which ones are good and which ones are bad .
That ’ s very important .
In vending , you want to spend a little bit more money to get a good machine because it ’ s going to benefit you in the long run .
I ’ ve talked to a lot of people in the vending business , and they ’ d tell you not to @ @ @ @ @ @ @ machine breaks and you have to get parts , you have to get them from over the Pacific , and that will take weeks .
What happens when you have a machine that ’ s malfunctioning ?
Is that a stressor for you ?
For new people , yes , because they hear it and they don ’ t know what ’ s going on .
But for me , if I get a call and someone tells me that my machine isn ’ t taking money , I know it ’ s @ @ @ @ @ @ @ Like the coin mechanism — where the coins go — is jammed , and it ’ ll be easily replaceable .
What ’ s the hardest part about this job ?
Probably that you can be called at any time to go fix a machine .
I ’ m home , it ’ s my day off , and I get a call : “ Hey , something is wrong with the machine.
” I like to be prompt in the way I run my business .
I want to go fix it @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
You ’ ve been in this business for almost a year and a half now .
What keeps you around ?
Why stops you from burning out ?
My first job when I was 14 was in concessions , where I restocked food and drinks .
It ’ s a part of me .
I talk to other people in the vending business [ who are ] my age , and it ’ s just a job to them , but for me , I just like it — refilling the machine @ @ @ @ @ @ @ home .
I see myself in this industry long term .
I ’ m going to stick with it .
Eventually , if I have too many locations , I ’ ll expand it and bring on some employees .
I want to grow it a lot more .
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Here’s a little-known fact: Vending machines are independent entities. They aren’t leased by PepsiCo, the Coca-Cola Company doesn’t send drivers out every evening to restock soda cans, and Wrigley never receives the four quarters you plunked into the bowels of your laundromat’s confectionery display for a months-old bag of Skittles. Instead, the vending industry is the provenance of people like Jaime Ibanez, a 19-year old who owns 25 machines in eight locations around the Dallas-Fort Worth area, all under the banner of his own company: Vending Bites.
Ibanez tells me that working in vending machines is comically hermetic. He wakes up early and checks an app on his phone called MoMa, which gives him a snapshot of the specific items that have been purchased from the card readers on his machines. Then it’s off to Sam’s Club, where he buys chips, pretzels, and candy bars in giant shrink-wrapped multipacks. Ibanez hauls the goods around in the back of his car along the eternal highways of North Texas until his vending machines are restocked and the money reclaimed. All of this labor is undertaken by Ibanez and his girlfriend, Lizbeth Galvan. (He doesn’t pay her a salary, but the vending machines pay for their shared rent and bills.) The couple makes each trip together, and usually, they’re back at home around 4 in the afternoon.
Ibanez is a licensed vending machine owner, but many of his day-to-day responsibilities look like those of a job in the gig economy: the sunk costs of the supplies and mileage, the unpredictable bottom lines, the selling of corporate products with limited oversight and liability from the corporations themselves. It feels very much in line with how many young people make their money in 2020.
Ibanez actually gets most of his income from his YouTube channel, where he keeps his 273,000 subscribers updated on the daily hustle of a vending baron. In total, Ibanez tells me his channel earns him an extra $10,000 a month, which is triple the amount he makes from the quarters and dollar bills he rustles from his machines. Ironically, Ibanez has found that talking about his business in front of a camera is exponentially more profitable than operating the business itself. We talked about that, as well as why he wanted to pivot from getting his real estate license to purchasing vending machines and the biggest mistake young investors make in such a deregulated industry.
The following transcript of our conversation has been lightly edited for length and clarity.
How did you get into this business?
I graduated high school in 2018 and planned on going to real estate school. But a week after I graduated, I saw a YouTube video of someone who does the same thing that I do now. It seemed fun to me: The guy was just going around taking all this money out of these machines, and he said he basically worked once a day. Two days later, I went out and bought my first vending machine.
I think a lot of people think vending machines are owned by some corporation, rather than by individual people. What is this grind like? Is it super DIY? Do you have to make deals with a company like Coca-Cola, or do you just buy stuff and put it in the machine?
Yeah, it’s a lot more simple than people think. You can buy a vending machine used from Craigslist, and you get your business license. You go to door-to-door talking to business owners and offering the service. You say, “Hey, we’re a vending machine company. Do you want to work with us?” You can make a contract with them. I actually don’t have any contracts with anyone I work with, but you can do that.
Do those clients get a portion of the profits?
Normally yes, but I’ve got 25 machines, and I only give commission to one owner. A lot of owners don’t even know how it works. Some of them ask me, “How much do you charge?” Which is crazy, that vending machine owners would actually charge to set up their machines. But yeah, I just talk to them, we set a date for me to install the machine, and I fill it up every two weeks.
You mentioned getting a business license. Do you have to be an LLC or something to do this the right way?
Yeah, you need a license and a tax ID, to do it legally. Especially because it’s food and drinks. We are a food and drink company.
What’s your daily routine as a vending machine owner?
On a normal day, when we go to restock the machines, I like to wake up really early because a lot of machines are at offices and warehouses. Sam’s Club doesn’t open ’til 7, so I’ll get up at 6, I go online — I can see what’s been selling at my machines from the credit card scanners, so it tells me exactly what drinks and chips are gone. I write down what I have to buy, and I separate the products in boxes. Then I head off to the location. I usually only do about two or three locations a day, because I make videos on YouTube, so I want to have enough stuff to shoot.
When do you get back home after all of that?
I’d say around 4 pm. Just because my locations are an hour away, and I can’t go to all of them in one day because of my YouTube videos. But other people with a vending machine business can go to, like, 10 locations in one day, and not go back for two weeks.
What are the best places to set up a vending machine, as far as profit goes?
The most common ones would be warehouses, because workers can’t really leave [that area]. Barber shops also. I’ve got a barber shop right now and it does really well. But not retail. I’ve tried retail before, and workers there don’t buy anything.
How much money can you reasonably pull in a month from vending machines?
I’d call a good month for 25 machines and eight locations to be about $6,000 to $7,000. The thing with vending machines, though, is that the net profit is only like 50 percent. So about $3,000 a month. The margins are what they are, between the food purchasing and gas.
What are the most efficient ways to buy product for your vending machines?
So, when I first started I went to Sam’s and bought a bunch of random stuff. It was trial and error, to see what worked. But the basic stuff always works the best. M&Ms, Skittles, regular chips. I’ve tried different kinds of candies, and the basics always do better. I stick with that. Sometimes I’ll still put a single weird item in the machines [in the past that’s included Instant Ramen packs, frozen pizzas, microwave popcorn, and even milk], but everything else is the same.
What’s it like when you’re pulling out a bunch of quarters and nickels from a machine and trying to transfer that to your bank account? Is that difficult?
It’s pretty annoying. I don’t take the coins to the bank because I have to roll them. I’m not going to sit there and do that all day. But I’ve got a 5-gallon bucket in my office that I dump them into. It’s about halfway full right now. I’ll probably have to find a bank that takes loose change. I’ll figure that out when it’s full.
You mentioned your YouTube channel, which is quite popular now. Why do you think there’s such a fascination for watching people work the vending machine hustle?
I really think it’s the money. The reason my channel grew is because my thumbnails were me holding a big wad of cash, and I was 18 years old with my own business. But a lot of other people say the videos are satisfying, watching a vending machine get restocked. Before the videos, nobody really knew how all of that worked.
What are some of the first mistakes people make in the vending machine business?
The biggest mistake people make is not doing the research on the machines. They don’t check which ones are good and which ones are bad. That’s very important. In vending, you want to spend a little bit more money to get a good machine because it’s going to benefit you in the long run. I’ve talked to a lot of people in the vending business, and they’d tell you not to buy machines made overseas. If the machine breaks and you have to get parts, you have to get them from over the Pacific, and that will take weeks.
What happens when you have a machine that’s malfunctioning? Is that a stressor for you?
For new people, yes, because they hear it and they don’t know what’s going on. But for me, if I get a call and someone tells me that my machine isn’t taking money, I know it’s going to be an easy fix. Like the coin mechanism — where the coins go — is jammed, and it’ll be easily replaceable.
What’s the hardest part about this job?
Probably that you can be called at any time to go fix a machine. I’m home, it’s my day off, and I get a call: “Hey, something is wrong with the machine.” I like to be prompt in the way I run my business. I want to go fix it on the same day they call me.
You’ve been in this business for almost a year and a half now. What keeps you around? Why stops you from burning out?
My first job when I was 14 was in concessions, where I restocked food and drinks. It’s a part of me. I talk to other people in the vending business [who are] my age, and it’s just a job to them, but for me, I just like it — refilling the machine, collecting the money, and going home. I see myself in this industry long term. I’m going to stick with it. Eventually, if I have too many locations, I’ll expand it and bring on some employees. I want to grow it a lot more.
Sign up for The Goods newsletter. Twice a week, we’ll send you the best Goods stories exploring what we buy, why we buy it, and why it matters.


vox--2020-01-31--What the virality of #GirlDad says about American fatherhood

LeVar Burton is one .
So is Alex Rodriguez .
Cubs pitcher Casey Sadler is one too .
All three proudly identified themselves as # GirlDads in recent days as the hashtag spread on Twitter .
The inspiration was a story told by ESPN ’ s Elle Duncan on Monday night about Kobe Bryant , the Lakers star and father of four girls who was killed in a helicopter crash on Sunday .
One of Bryant ’ s daughters , Gianna , also died in the crash , along with seven other people .
Duncan said that she met Bryant @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and that he spoke to her of his pride in raising daughters .
“ Girls are amazing , ” he told her .
“ I would have five more girls if I could .
I ’ m a girl dad.
” After the segment aired , celebrities and ordinary dads alike began sharing photos of themselves with their daughters , along with messages of support and love .
The hashtag soon went viral .
For some , the hashtag is a way to push back against stereotypes — some dads of daughters say @ @ @ @ @ @ @ man must want a son .
American society still frequently values men above women , Tony Porter , CEO of the anti-violence organization A Call to Men , told Vox .
For some men , “ the whole notion of having a son is sometimes to live vicariously through him , ” or “ to raise him in your likeness.
” That can lead to some dads “ feeling a great disappointment that they don ’ t have sons.
” Men sharing their pride in their daughters can show a different perspective .
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ Oh Boy , You ’ re Having a Girl : A Dad ’ s Survival Guide to Raising Daughters , it ’ s a way to “ push down the idea that , as men , we feel like we have to have sons.
” And some say that encouraging men to take pride in their daughters can help promote greater gender equality overall .
The phrase “ as the father of daughters ” has gotten something of a bad name in recent years , with some arguing that men shouldn ’ t @ @ @ @ @ @ @ to treat other women with respect .
But for others , a father ’ s relationship with his daughter creates an opportunity to get him to examine his relationships with sexism and masculinity as well .
Efforts like the # GirlDad hashtag can help men see the importance of creating all the same opportunities for their daughters they would create for their sons , Porter said .
And “ our hope is that by doing such for our daughters , ” fathers will “ understand our greater responsibility to women in general.
” @ @ @ @ @ @ @ way to push back on stereotypes After Duncan told her story about Bryant , numerous dads — many , but not all of them , involved in sports — shared pictures of and messages about their daughters on Twitter .
For many , the hashtag was simply a way to show love .
But others commented on the expectation that as men , they should have or want sons .
Klems is familiar with that assumption .
When their third daughter was born , he remembers telling his wife , “ everybody thought @ @ @ @ @ @ @ I honestly didn ’ t care.
” He believes the attitude sometimes comes more from the outside than from fathers themselves .
When moms have sons , they ’ re also often asked if they want to try again for a girl , Klems said : “ I think people , deep down , think you kind of want to replace yourself.
” But there are also gendered prejudices at work in how Americans view fathers and their children , said Porter , who has three daughters .
There ’ s a perception @ @ @ @ @ @ @ if you don ’ t have a son , ” he explained , which “ fits into the constructs that we have around male domination and masculinity and manhood.
” For powerful men , having daughters hasn ’ t always meant supporting women Having daughters , Porter said , can help break down those constructs .
In its work , A Call to Men has encountered many men who “ begin to understand issues of equity and equality and become advocates for it just by virtue of raising daughters.
” The idea that @ @ @ @ @ @ @ more respectful of women has been controversial in recent years .
When Donald Trump , then a candidate for president , was heard on tape in 2016 bragging about his ability to grab women “ by the pussy , ” some men in power responded that , “ as the father of daughters , ” they were horrified .
“ As the father of three daughters , ” Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell said at the time , “ I strongly believe that Trump needs to apologize directly to women and girls everywhere.
@ @ @ @ @ @ @ and just weeks later , he told a crowd that “ we need a new president , Donald Trump , to be the most powerful Republican in America.
” Whatever McConnell ’ s feelings were about his daughters , they were apparently superseded by his desire to see a Republican in the White House .
Moreover , some have argued that men shouldn ’ t need daughters to have empathy for women .
While studies have shown that “ men with daughters are less attached to traditional gender roles ” and “ male @ @ @ @ @ @ @ more , ” Jessica Contrera wrote at the Washington Post in 2017 , “ all of these steps toward equality can be achieved , of course , without producing any offspring.
” Bryant had also been the subject of questions around his commitment to women ’ s equality .
While he was known for his support of his daughters and mentorship of female athletes , he was also accused , in 2003 , of sexually assaulting a woman at a Colorado resort .
In the wake of his death , many have struggled @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
As a father and mentor , “ Bryant showed the world with his actions how much he supported women , ” Jane McManus wrote at the New York Daily News .
“ But I wish he ’ d taken a moment to tell also.
” “ I want to know how he internalized the damage that night caused , to his reputation and more importantly to another human being , ” she wrote .
“ How it didn ’ t destroy his ability to work with women .
I want to know @ @ @ @ @ @ @ husband in the wake of that , how he thought of himself as a father of one girl , then two and three and finally four.
” Fathers can be crucial in the fight against sexism , many say America won ’ t get those answers now .
But for many , it ’ s important to acknowledge the role fathers can play in advocating for their daughters and building a fairer world for them .
Klems remembers a time when he was coaching his oldest daughter ’ s soccer team and a @ @ @ @ @ @ @ during what was supposed to the girls ’ team ’ s practice time .
The boys ’ coach asked Klems to have the girls practice in a smaller area off to the side , but Klems pushed back .
“ Even if I ’ m oversensitive to it , I don ’ t care , ” he said .
“ You don ’ t want your kids to ever feel less than others .
You don ’ t want them to feel more than others either .
You want them to feel like @ @ @ @ @ @ @ and working with girls can be illuminating for men , Porter said , showing them “ how to be open to the experiences of sharing emotions and fears and pains , ” something that ’ s more accepted for women than for men .
“ When we ’ re working with boys or just with other men , we deny those human experiences.
” He also encourages men to show vulnerability to their daughters .
“ Just as women are taught to share their feelings and emotions and that asking for help is @ @ @ @ @ @ @ it ’ s really wonderful for dads to not only embrace that but join their daughters on that journey.
” It ’ s crucial for men “ to be able to shed a tear , ” he said , “ to be able to say , ‘ I don ’ t have all the answers , I ’ ll do my best.
’ And then , at the same time , to teach our daughters that they can reach for the sky .
”

LeVar Burton is one. So is Alex Rodriguez. Cubs pitcher Casey Sadler is one too.
All three proudly identified themselves as #GirlDads in recent days as the hashtag spread on Twitter.
The inspiration was a story told by ESPN’s Elle Duncan on Monday night about Kobe Bryant, the Lakers star and father of four girls who was killed in a helicopter crash on Sunday. One of Bryant’s daughters, Gianna, also died in the crash, along with seven other people.
"I would have 5 more girls if I could. I'm a girl dad."@elleduncanESPN's story about how much Kobe loved his daughters is something special. pic.twitter.com/1KJx17QRjY — SportsCenter (@SportsCenter) January 28, 2020
Duncan said that she met Bryant once, while she was pregnant, and that he spoke to her of his pride in raising daughters. “Girls are amazing,” he told her. “I would have five more girls if I could. I’m a girl dad.”
After the segment aired, celebrities and ordinary dads alike began sharing photos of themselves with their daughters, along with messages of support and love. The hashtag soon went viral.
For some, the hashtag is a way to push back against stereotypes — some dads of daughters say they contend with the assumption that every man must want a son.
American society still frequently values men above women, Tony Porter, CEO of the anti-violence organization A Call to Men, told Vox. For some men, “the whole notion of having a son is sometimes to live vicariously through him,” or “to raise him in your likeness.” That can lead to some dads “feeling a great disappointment that they don’t have sons.”
Men sharing their pride in their daughters can show a different perspective. For Brian A. Klems, author of Oh Boy, You’re Having a Girl: A Dad’s Survival Guide to Raising Daughters, it’s a way to “push down the idea that, as men, we feel like we have to have sons.”
And some say that encouraging men to take pride in their daughters can help promote greater gender equality overall. The phrase “as the father of daughters” has gotten something of a bad name in recent years, with some arguing that men shouldn’t need the incentive of their own children to treat other women with respect. But for others, a father’s relationship with his daughter creates an opportunity to get him to examine his relationships with sexism and masculinity as well.
Efforts like the #GirlDad hashtag can help men see the importance of creating all the same opportunities for their daughters they would create for their sons, Porter said. And “our hope is that by doing such for our daughters,” fathers will “understand our greater responsibility to women in general.”
For some, #GirlDad is a way to push back on stereotypes
After Duncan told her story about Bryant, numerous dads — many, but not all of them, involved in sports — shared pictures of and messages about their daughters on Twitter.
For many, the hashtag was simply a way to show love. But others commented on the expectation that as men, they should have or want sons.
Klems is familiar with that assumption. When their third daughter was born, he remembers telling his wife, “everybody thought I really wanted a boy, but I honestly didn’t care.” He believes the attitude sometimes comes more from the outside than from fathers themselves.
When moms have sons, they’re also often asked if they want to try again for a girl, Klems said: “I think people, deep down, think you kind of want to replace yourself.”
But there are also gendered prejudices at work in how Americans view fathers and their children, said Porter, who has three daughters. There’s a perception that “you’re missing something if you don’t have a son,” he explained, which “fits into the constructs that we have around male domination and masculinity and manhood.”
For powerful men, having daughters hasn’t always meant supporting women
Having daughters, Porter said, can help break down those constructs. In its work, A Call to Men has encountered many men who “begin to understand issues of equity and equality and become advocates for it just by virtue of raising daughters.”
The idea that having daughters can teach men to be more respectful of women has been controversial in recent years. When Donald Trump, then a candidate for president, was heard on tape in 2016 bragging about his ability to grab women “by the pussy,” some men in power responded that, “as the father of daughters,” they were horrified.
“As the father of three daughters,” Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell said at the time, “I strongly believe that Trump needs to apologize directly to women and girls everywhere.”
But he never unendorsed Trump, and just weeks later, he told a crowd that “we need a new president, Donald Trump, to be the most powerful Republican in America.” Whatever McConnell’s feelings were about his daughters, they were apparently superseded by his desire to see a Republican in the White House.
Moreover, some have argued that men shouldn’t need daughters to have empathy for women. While studies have shown that “men with daughters are less attached to traditional gender roles” and “male CEOs with firstborn daughters pay their employees more,” Jessica Contrera wrote at the Washington Post in 2017, “all of these steps toward equality can be achieved, of course, without producing any offspring.”
Bryant had also been the subject of questions around his commitment to women’s equality. While he was known for his support of his daughters and mentorship of female athletes, he was also accused, in 2003, of sexually assaulting a woman at a Colorado resort. In the wake of his death, many have struggled with how to balance those two truths.
As a father and mentor, “Bryant showed the world with his actions how much he supported women,” Jane McManus wrote at the New York Daily News. “But I wish he’d taken a moment to tell also.”
“I want to know how he internalized the damage that night caused, to his reputation and more importantly to another human being,” she wrote. “How it didn’t destroy his ability to work with women. I want to know how he thought about himself as a husband in the wake of that, how he thought of himself as a father of one girl, then two and three and finally four.”
Fathers can be crucial in the fight against sexism, many say
America won’t get those answers now. But for many, it’s important to acknowledge the role fathers can play in advocating for their daughters and building a fairer world for them.
Klems remembers a time when he was coaching his oldest daughter’s soccer team and a boys’ team had taken the field during what was supposed to the girls’ team’s practice time. The boys’ coach asked Klems to have the girls practice in a smaller area off to the side, but Klems pushed back.
“Even if I’m oversensitive to it, I don’t care,” he said. “You don’t want your kids to ever feel less than others. You don’t want them to feel more than others either. You want them to feel like we’re all human.”
Coaching and working with girls can be illuminating for men, Porter said, showing them “how to be open to the experiences of sharing emotions and fears and pains,” something that’s more accepted for women than for men. “When we’re working with boys or just with other men, we deny those human experiences.”
He also encourages men to show vulnerability to their daughters. “Just as women are taught to share their feelings and emotions and that asking for help is okay,” he said, “it’s really wonderful for dads to not only embrace that but join their daughters on that journey.”
It’s crucial for men “to be able to shed a tear,” he said, “to be able to say, ‘I don’t have all the answers, I’ll do my best.’ And then, at the same time, to teach our daughters that they can reach for the sky.”


vox--2020-01-30--Lamar Alexander, a key GOP swing vote, will vote against witnesses in the impeachment trial

Sen. Lamar Alexander ( R-TN ) , a closely watched swing vote on the question of whether to call witnesses in the Senate impeachment trial , has made up his mind .
After some deliberation , Alexander announced Thursday that he would vote against calling witnesses , dealing a major blow to Democrats who have pushed for additional testimony from individuals with direct knowledge about the White House ’ s handling of aid to Ukraine .
Alexander elaborated on his decision in a 15-tweet statement .
“ There is no need for more evidence to prove something that has already @ @ @ @ @ @ @ the US Constitution ’ s high bar for an impeachable offense , ” he wrote .
Alexander , in his posts , appeared to point to the argument made by Trump counsel Alan Dershowitz , who ’ s said the quid pro quo the president has been charged with committing — even if true — did not rise to the level of an impeachable offense .
In several tweets , he acknowledged that President Donald Trump did condition aid to Ukraine in exchange for political investigations .
This charge , though , was @ @ @ @ @ @ @ .
Alexander , a moderate from Tennessee who ’ s retiring this year , was seen as a strong target for Senate Democrats to recruit to their side because he wasn ’ t facing the same electoral pressure as other lawmakers .
Along with Sens .
Mitt Romney , Susan Collins and Lisa Murkowski , Alexander was one of a handful of lawmakers considered potential swing votes on the witness question .
As of Thursday evening , Romney and Collins had both indicated that they were in favor of calling witnesses , while @ @ @ @ @ @ @ stance .
“ I am going to go reflect on what I have heard , re-read my notes and decide whether I need to hear more , ” Murkowski told reporters Thursday .
Alexander announced a vote in line with that of most Republicans , many of whom have expressed disinterest in calling more witnesses .
And at this point , the witness question that has been dogging the rest of the trial is effectively settled .
Without Alexander , Democrats don ’ t have the pivotal fourth vote they need to reach @ @ @ @ @ @ @ required to approve motions for witnesses .
Even if Murkowski were to vote in favor of witnesses , there would be a tie , and it ’ s likely Chief Justice John Roberts will elect not to break the tie , resulting in the motion ultimately failing .
This means these Senate proceedings will be the first presidential impeachment trial in US history that does not include witness testimony .
What comes next The official vote on whether to allow witnesses is still slated to take place on Friday , after closing arguments @ @ @ @ @ @ @ ’ s legal defense team .
Now that it seems that the Senate won ’ t be calling witnesses , the trial is set to move quickly toward an acquittal vote that could take place late Friday evening .
Republicans have been eager to wrap the trial this week , and they ’ re poised to acquit Trump of both articles of impeachment .

Sens. Lamar Alexander (R-TN) and Lisa Murkowski (R-AK) have made up their minds.
Both moderates, who have long been closely watched swing votes in the Senate impeachment trial, will not be voting in favor of calling witnesses. Their announcements effectively decide the outcome of a witness vote expected late Friday, and deal a major blow to Democrats who have pushed for additional testimony from individuals with direct knowledge about the White House’s handling of aid to Ukraine. They also signal that the Senate will swiftly move toward acquittal, after checking off some procedural boxes.
The two Senate Republicans offered slightly different reasons for their final decision.
Alexander concluded that the Democrats did prove their case against Trump, and were able to demonstrate that he conditioned military aid on the announcement of political investigations. Even so, he said, these actions do not meet the threshold of an impeachable offense.
“There is no need for more evidence to prove something that has already been proven and that does not meet the US Constitution’s high bar for an impeachable offense,” he wrote.
I worked with other senators to make sure that we have the right to ask for more documents and witnesses, but there is no need for more evidence to prove something that has already been proven and that does not meet the U.S. Constitution’s high bar for an impeachable offense.1/15 — Sen. Lamar Alexander (@SenAlexander) January 31, 2020
Even if the House charges were true, they do not meet the Constitution’s “treason, bribery, or other high crimes and misdemeanors” standard for an impeachable offense. 11/15 — Sen. Lamar Alexander (@SenAlexander) January 31, 2020
Murkowski, meanwhile, did not indicate whether she believed that the Democrats had made their case — but called out Congress writ large for failing as an institution.
In her statement, Murkowski slammed the House’s “flawed” and “rushed” articles of impeachment, while signaling that she wasn’t interested in drawing Chief Justice John Roberts into a fight over a potential tie vote. Although Roberts wasn’t expected to break a tie over witnesses, the scenario would have shifted the focus onto his role in the trial.
Murkowski, too, noted that she did not see the addition of witness testimony changing the outcome of the trial. “I don’t believe the continuation of this process will change anything. It is sad for me to admit that, as an institution, the Congress has failed,” she said.
Murkowski and Alexander, along with Sens. Mitt Romney (R-UT) and Susan Collins (R-ME) were among a handful of lawmakers considered potential swing votes on the witness question. As of Friday afternoon, Romney and Collins were the only Republicans to indicate that they were in favor of calling witnesses.
Without Murkowski and Alexander, Democrats don’t have the pivotal four votes they need to reach a 51-vote simple majority that’s required to approve motions for witnesses. As a result, Trump’s impeachment trial is poised to be the first one in US history that does not include witness testimony.
What comes next
The official vote on whether to allow witnesses is still slated to take place on Friday afternoon, after additional arguments from the House impeachment managers and Trump’s legal defense team.
With the Senate on track to reject the consideration of more witnesses, the trial is set to move quickly toward an acquittal vote later this weekend, or even next week. Democrats intend to force a number of votes to delay the process, but the proceedings aren’t expected to stretch beyond the coming week.