Nas drops a solid 15-track record with Nas holding down the mic and Hit-Boy laying down the beat. Lil Wayne is the only guest on the album. The rest is just Nas spitting dope-ass lyrics over the laid-back, soulful productions. The last line from the hook of “Pretty Young Girl” goes: “She’s a queen, her dad a G, I know hе rock to Nas.” The first time I heard it, I thought he said, “I know he recogNas.” I was like, “Damn, that’s a clever wordplay.” Then I played it again and again, that wasn’t it. In any rate, this is Nas’s sixth collaboration with his Boy—rounding out the two triumphant trilogies. Let’s hope this isn’t their final chapter together.

I have been obsessed with Phạm Duy’s music. The more I paid attention to his lyrics, the more I appreciated his gift for words. In addition to relistening to his songs, I wanted to take a deep dive into his lyrics. The result is a sample page featuring songs I have loved as well as songs I haven’t heard. I wanted to create a page I can read on my phone when I have a few minutes to spare. While I can visit various Vietnamese music websites to read Phạm Duy’s lyrics, I prefer an ad-free page with all the songs in one place. Furthermore, I want to have a pleasant reading experience. For the typesetting I combined Fern, designed by David Jonathan Ross, and Case, designed by Erik Spiekermann, Anja Meiners, and Ralph du Carrois. Since Phạm Duy had written over 1,000 songs, the selection for this sample is only my personal favorites. I left out political, controversial songs and epic compositions. Take a look!

No, I didn’t have swollen nuts, but my minivan had. I took my 2011 Toyota Sienna to Costco for rotation and I received a call notifying me that the nuts were very swollen and they needed to be replaced. All 20 nuts were replaced at $1.80 a piece. The total was almost $40.

I spent my Sunday cleaning up our bathrooms. I started to get to work around 9 am. I wanted to do a deep clean since I hadn’t done it in a while. Scrubbed the toilets, the bathtub, the shower stand, and wiped down all the floors and the trims on the wall.

The worst part was removing the molding caulk in the shower stand. The process took me about two hours just to finish the square. The best part is that my wife will re-caulk it since she’s an expert on it. I am terrible at that type of handy, crafty job.

I am trying to do everything I can before the winter because I won’t want to do anything else on the weekend besides skiing and snowboarding in the winter. At leas, that’s the hope.

I haven’t posted anything on Twitter/X or LinkedIn in almost a year. I don’t miss them. They don’t do anything for me. I still use Facebook heavily to stay in touch with family and friends. In addition, I have been using Facebook’s Marketplace to sell used skis, snowboards, skates, and things we don’t need anymore. Even with a few scammers, I have been able to sell things. I am slowly replacing all my old equipment with new ones. Once my new skis come, I’ll sell my old ones. I should also try to sell toys and materials that are accumulated in my basement. My next career move, when I lose my job, is to buy used things, fix them up, and resell them on Facebook’s Marketplace.

Cuong Lu:

[H]appiness and suffering are very close to each other, and that touching our own suffering can be a source of relief and even a prerequisite for true happiness.

This sample contains ten selected poems from The Secret of Hoa Sen, written by Nguyễn Phan Quế Mai and translated by Bruce Weigl and the author. For the title of this project, I chose “Là Việt” because Ms. Nguyễn speaks eloquently and proudly about being Vietnamese. “We have crossed the glorious cities / Paris of light or ancient London,” she writes, “Our souls still drift back to our harbor.” For typesetting, I selected Kaius, by Lisa Fischbach, for reading text, and AT Kyrios, by Stephen Nixon, for display text. If you like this sample, pick up a copy of The Secret of Hoa Sen for the full experience.

Damn, my kids use their digital devices way too much. My firstborn always glues to his phone or laptop. My second son constantly plays on his PC. My third and fourth can’t stay away from their iPads. They have no motivation to do anything else. If they go to the skatepark with me, I have to reward them with boba tea or their favorite food.

The issue is they don’t know when to stop. If I don’t ask them to turn off, they will play for hours. Even when I tell them to stop, they won’t get up until they get yelled at. It breaks my heart to see them dropping everything else and just focusing on their digital devices.

My oldest is no longer reading paper books like he used to. My second is no longer interested in playing piano. He takes months to learn one song. My third gets whiny when being asked to practice piano. My youngest doesn’t do much else.

Am I the only one who is deeply concerned? Most kids seem to do the same. When my kids get together with other kids, they spend most of their time on their devices. I get so irritated that I just don’t want to witness it.

Other parents seem to be fine with it though. Maybe I should just stop worrying and let them do whatever they want with their time and hope for the best. What else can get worse? Addiction, depression, dropout, withdrawal? As a father, I love them and want to prevent the worst, but I am failing big time. I was so naive about parenthood. I thought love would conquer everything, but love alone isn’t enough. The more I love; the more I care; the more I fail. They have sunken to the point that they can’t function without these digital devices.

My concerns, worries, anxieties have fallen on deaf ears. I hope I am dead wrong. I hope I am worrying too much. I hope I am just being paranoid. Only time will tell.

Mitch McConnell froze two times while talking with reporters and we invited him to speak. That’s fucking hilarious.

My reading pace had been slow. A 250-page memoir should only take me a few days or a week to finish. Beth Nguyễn’s Owner of a Lonely Heart took me two weeks not because it wasn’t engaging, but because I was distracted with other projects and priorities. The last two days I was determined to focus on it and I just couldn’t put it down.

Ms. Nguyễn’s memoir is so real and relatable, in particular her story as an immigrant from Việt Nam. I love the story of her name. Like her, I changed my name from Doanh to Donny because I got tired of correcting people butchering it. In recent years, I have been wondering if I should change it back to show that I have not been Americanized. After reading Beth’s story, however, I’ll stay with it. It’s just a name, as she points out, “… it doesn’t change my past, my family, our lives as refugees in the United States.”

Ms. Nguyễn writes about the complicated relationship with her mothers as well as her relationship with her own kids. Even though she married a white guy, she still recognizes who she is. She writes:

All my life I have felt like an imposter daughter, an imposter Vietnamese, an imposter American, and often an imposter mother, failing and disappointing, an unreliable narrator. When does a refugee stop being a refugee? The answer is in the question itself, forever unanswerable.

I also appreciate her realness on motherhood. She confesses:

Here is a thing that I have never said or admitted because it sounds fucked up: every year my children get older feels like such a relief, not just because every year feels like a gain in their health and growth, but also because it feels like every extra year means they will be okay because they will be old enough, and getting older enough, to bear it if something terrible happens. One of the reasons early childhood, and thus early motherhood, is so terrifying is that we are always thinking about danger, worrying about safety and loss. What is worse, the fear of losing your children or the fear of your children losing you? And if your children lost you, would you live enough in their minds? What if they forget, and thus lose you?

This memoir speaks to me in various aspects and her prose is so damn good. I am so glad to see more and more Vietnamese-American writers making it. Whether fiction or nonfiction, I am seeking out Vietnamese-American authors to read.