Conversations in Cars
plus, how to make your private home into a public good?
In your Death, Sex & Money feed this week: Who’s Driving Your Uber? — one of my all-time favorites
If you live in the Bay Area, come out next weekend to see me in conversation with Anna Quindlen at Book Passage in Corte Madera. We discuss her new novel together on Saturday, 3/23, at 3 pm.
Happy spring! These little buddies are here to say: yes, you may just be recovering from losing an hour of sleep over the weekend, but this transition will also bring some delights!
I remember when I was writing my book about talking about hard things, over and over, I heard from people that uncomfortable conversations were often easier to start on a road trip. For one, there’s not the pressure of continuous eye contact, and there’s also something about the pacing. You can let things unfold a little more slowly than you might if you were across the table from someone, pausing to look out a window and letting different points sink in.
That’s also why some of the best conversations I’ve had with strangers happen in Uber or Lyft rides. There’s not the built-in expectation of visiting, but if you start chatting about each other’s families, or what brought each of you to the area you are. All of a sudden, you can be digging into real stuff together.
That’s what you hear in your Death, Sex & Money podcast feed this week. We’re replaying an episode we first produced years ago, back in 2017, when I was just getting to know the Bay Area as a recent transplant. Then-producer Katie Bishop and I took rides all around the region for a couple of days and interviewed our drivers as we did it. It’s one of my favorite episodes ever. I love the stories in it, and I also appreciate how this episode reminds me that DSM-y exchanges are always available to me in my daily life if I lift up my eyes and start with an open question.
It was also good timing because I had a short work trip this week, which meant I was in cars with drivers more than usual. I had one great conversation with a driver in the Bay Area, a former newspaper columnist, about inequality, journalism, and the joys and exhaustion of reporting road trips.
As you’ll also hear in this week’s episode, we’re collecting advice questions from people contemplating, or in the middle of, a major life transition or reset. We want to know if you have a question about this change that keeps snagging you. How do I know if this is the right time? What if the decision I just made was wrong? What comforts am I willing to give up to take a risk? Send us a voice memo to tell us about the change you’re in, and what you could use some advice about. Record a voice memo and send it to us at deathsexmoney@slate.com.
Thinking ahead a bit on life transitions, we got an interesting question about inheritance and end-of-life planning from a listener in North Carolina:
My husband and I are 45 and childless by choice. About 15 years ago, my Dad had a massive "widow maker" heart attack on Christmas Eve. I inherited some property and last year, sold it. I used the money to buy my dream home. The property is 40 acres, has a gorgeous and simple 121 year old home on it, it is surrounded by trees, a three acre pond, and a saltwater swimming pool! It's the best thing I've ever seen in my entire life. My husband and I have chickens, he tinkers around on a tractor, I plant wildflowers, and we have honeybees.
Here's my question: without heirs, I don't know what we're supposed to do with this when we die. Developers buying land to build boring cookie cutter homes is rampant in the area. I don't want that to happen to this property. I have one nephew. He's already set to inherit MILLIONS in property and cash. So wouldn't it be kind of "gross" to just give him more? Wouldn't he be almost burdened by it? But isn't that the "way it traditionally goes"???
If I had a wish, I would want this property turned into an adorable Bed and Breakfast retreat where folks could enjoy boating across the pond to the creek and waterfall. They could stroll the gardens and hike through the woods. Kids could find frogs and float in the pool. But how would I even leave it in a conservatorship like that? How does it work? Who would I talk too? Who would be willing to be a caretaker when I'm dead?
Another idea I had was donating it to the County and have them create a park with the "main house" that could have tours inside and people could enjoy the grounds that way too.
What can I do? I can't speak to my family about this like I do everything else. This is different."
—a full time artist who loves chickens more than children LOL.
If you have any thoughts or advice to share with “full-time artist who loves chickens more than children LOL,” please share in the comments. It could be ideas for models she should check out, or if you’ve been through your own legal and financial end-of-life planning, let us know if there were any resources you found especially helpful.
And let me remind you about two recent Death, Sex & Money episodes that touched on these questions about values and inheritance:
Speaking of inheritance, I’ve been listening to a 2019 novel by Roxana Robinson called Dawson’s Fall that unfolds in the post-Civil War South. One of its main characters is a local newspaper publisher confronting the limits of his influence. While it’s not a comforting read, it has been useful to think of a time that rhymes with our present.
Each character carries a heavy mix of grief, overwhelm, and the responsibility to do something — sound familiar?
Thanks for sending so many notes and jumping in the comments after last week’s newsletter. I so appreciate hearing from you as we move through this time together.
Until next week,
Anna
Reminder: Death, Sex & Money has moved to Slate! Help us build a solid foundation at our new home by signing up to be a member of SlatePlus. You’ll get access to an ad-free stream of our show — plus other goodies we have in the works — and you’ll know you are joining with your fellow listeners to keep us going strong. Sign up here — we depend on listener support and this really matters. Thank you!
There were a few more archival Death, Sex & Money episodes I found myself thinking about this week:
I watched the new documentary Going to Mars: The Nikki Giovanni Project and it made me reflect on our conversation live on stage in New York City in 2018. We called that episode, “How Nikki Giovanni Finally Learned to Cry.”
“Please Stay, Baby. Please?” is the title of a new essay in The New York Times about repeated miscarriages, and it beautifully captures the commonness and crushing grief of pregnancy loss. It made me think about the listened named Krystal and the subject line of her email that led to our episode, “My Stillbirth During Anna’s Maternity Leave.”
Vickie Goodwin emailed to share that a play about her late husband Sissy is opening tonight in Rock Springs, Wyoming. I interviewed Sissy and Vickie together in 2019 about their marriage and the roots of Sissy’s cross-dressing. Vickie joined us again to talk about Sissy’s death from a brain tumor in 2020. I’ll be thinking about you tonight, Vickie!
And I watched Jenny Slate’s new standup special this week called Seasoned Professional. I loved this 2023 conversation with her and her ex-husband Dean Fischer-Camp about their creative collaboration that continued after their marriage ended.
To @a full time artist who loves chickens more than children LOL
There are some community housing land trust models that could possibly provide the structure you’re looking for. I live in CA and there are a few of these in the Bay Area. Also it’s possible that the local indigenous community would be an excellent steward of your land. I know of two religiously affiliated camp/retreat properties that have recently been sold (or are in the process) to a local indigenous community so they can steward the land and have a place to redevelop their cultural and language practices for future generations. I also wonder if a local university or arts/writing group would love to use it as an art/writing retreat for artists.
Dad had 7 acres of forest on a step mountainside across the brook from the 250+ y.o. home his grandfather rebuilt in New England. Town declared it a housing lot and sent a tax bill. Dad donated it to Land Trust with a clause that if any change were contemplated, Trust Board AND Town Council had to unanimously agree. They never agree on anything. This effectively locks it as park land in perpetuity.