Lifestyle
Ode to a Gen-Z Situationship
I met Jacob at an overcrowded Abba-themed dance night. He was wearing a faux-fur head wrap. He seemed so young. I was 33. Still, I thought he was cute. When we locked eyes on the smoking patio, I thought the feeling was mutual.
We got to chatting. Jacob said he worked “in music,” which I took to mean he sometimes played the guitar. He asked what I did, and I brushed off the question. I didn’t feel like talking about work.
A week earlier, my ex had moved out of our apartment. After six years together, he said, “Anna, I don’t think this is working.” And just like that, we were over. There were plenty of reasons. We argued too much, had different timelines for children. And then there was the sex — or lack thereof.
Couples therapy helped with the arguing but not the intimacy. When he finally handed me his key, I sat in my half-empty apartment and cried.
Now, with Jacob, I thought about how most of my friends were starting families and buying houses. And here I was at Abba Night, drinking a vodka soda.
He asked for my number. I gave it to him, not expecting much.
The next day, he asked if I wanted to get a drink. We met for margaritas. I was early. I realized that I barely remembered his face. All I knew was that he seemed young. As I waited at the bar, I wondered just how young. Finally, he appeared, looking like he was dressed for Coachella — baggy cargo pants and chunky, layered necklaces. I could barely meet his gaze.
He was 24, almost a decade younger. I was embarrassed, but Jacob shrugged.
“Age doesn’t matter,” he said.
Which of course, wasn’t true.
He told me he was a rapper and that his tracks had done well on Spotify. I was surprised. Impressed, even. He said a manager was interested, but he’d have to fork over a huge chunk of his profits.
I started to give him advice — as a TV writer, I had experience with predatory contracts. Then I stopped myself. Did I sound like his mother? We talked more. We didn’t have much in common, but I wasn’t ready to give up. When we finished our margaritas, I suggested a second bar.
The next place was swanky. The bartender gave me a funny look. Was he judging me? Maybe nine-and-a-half years wasn’t that much, but I’d never been on this side of an age gap. In my early 20s, I had dated a handful of older men. At the time, I found their age alluring, but hindsight had made me skeptical of their attraction. I once heard that adult brains aren’t fully developed until the age of 25. Was my young self simply easier to manipulate?
Sitting with Jacob, I wondered if now I was the creepy older man. I ordered myself an orange wine and he blinked. “What’s that?” he asked.
I explained it had something to do with the grape skins. He nodded blankly, then he asked what I was working on. I told him about my horror script about a girl who loses her mind in the woods. He listened, eyes wide. He told me it sounded “like a real movie.” I knew he meant it as a compliment.
Jacob was a gentle lover, if a bit nervous. He lingered in my living room for an hour before kissing me. I didn’t mind. He was a good kisser. And when he ran his fingers along my arm, the age gap disappeared. We were just two people on a fitted sheet, trying to feel less alone. For once, sex felt effortless.
On our second date, Jacob showed me his music. It was chaotic and loud. Even his voice — deep and full of swagger — felt unfamiliar. I didn’t understand it.
On our third date, lying naked in bed, I told Jacob I wasn’t looking for anything serious. I explained that I was emotionally unavailable because of my breakup. He said that was OK. Perfect, in fact. Because he wanted to focus on his music, not love. We agreed to keep things casual.
“Casual” meant seeing each other once a week. He always offered to pay, but usually I grabbed the check. I knew my TV writer salary exceeded his Spotify profits. He lived in a cramped studio apartment and slept on a futon. I had slept there once, but my back hurt so much from the flimsy cushions that I vowed never to do it again.
Two months in, we went clubbing with his friends in a sweaty basement bar where everyone seemed younger than me. I was dressed in high-waisted Zara jeans and a tank top I’d bought in 2017. The other women wore low-slung pants with tiny crop tops, oozing the kind of confidence you feel when you’re still on your parents’ health insurance.
One vented to me about her on-again-off-again boyfriend. I suggested couples therapy. She looked at me like I had told her to eat a shoe.
The next morning, I peered into my bathroom mirror, hyper-aware of the wrinkles on my forehead. I had turned 30 in the first year of Covid. Prepandemic, I didn’t remember ever having wrinkles. Post-pandemic, my face seemed centuries older.
After three months, I found myself falling for Jacob. On Valentine’s Day, I took him to my favorite sushi restaurant. Afterward, in bed, I told him how I felt. I said I didn’t need a serious relationship, but I wanted to take things to the next level. Maybe a weekend trip?
He grew quiet. “Maybe,” he said.
During our next date, Jacob dumped me. We had just ordered our entrees when he dropped the bomb, saying, “I think we should roll things back romantically.”
I didn’t get it. Was this about the weekend trip? He said it was everything. I never understood his jokes. We had different interests. And hadn’t we agreed to keep things casual? Didn’t I notice that when I told him I was falling for him, he never said it back?
The waiter returned with our entrees — salad for me, and a big bowl of mac and cheese for Jacob. Waiting for the bill, I wanted to cry, but I refused. It was one thing to date a 24-year-old in a faux-fur head wrap; it was quite another to get dumped by one.
That night, I couldn’t sleep. At 3 a.m., I opened Spotify and clicked Jacob’s first track. I listened over and over until the music no longer confused me. What had initially sounded chaotic now seemed urgent and driving.
I searched Spotify for similar artists. It was as if dating Jacob had opened my eyes to the fact that there was a new generation of people creating art, and it was worth trying to understand. Obvious, maybe, but I’d missed it.
Jacob and I had only dated a few months and barely scratched the surface of our emotions. We were, by all accounts, a “situationship.” And I had spent most of it focused on myself. Because I paid for things, I chose what we did, what we ate. And it wasn’t just that. He seemed endlessly impressed by my writing career. He made me feel like I had things figured out. But I hadn’t considered how it all made him feel. That maybe the constant focus on my life made him feel small and unmoored.
A month later, I willed myself onto the dating apps. When I met Jacob, I was reeling from heartbreak. But things had changed, and I had to admit that sex with anyone would now, inevitably, lead to feelings.
I soon matched with a guy named Lucas. He was 45, with eye wrinkles and gray hair in his beard. On our second date, he took me to a fancy restaurant and ordered the orange wine. He had just bought a house in Encino and redone the floors. After our fourth date, he suggested a weekend trip. Maybe Santa Barbara?
I liked Lucas, but what was I doing flinging myself so far across the age spectrum? Lucas wanted something serious. Was I ready for that? I told my therapist I was thinking of breaking it off. She asked why. I said, “Because he’s old!”
She laughed. “If you like him, that’s all that matters.”
I said yes to Santa Barbara.
A year after my breakup with Jacob, he texted me. He was now 25, meaning his brain had officially finished developing. When he asked if I would like to meet up, I was shocked. Did he finally realize that he couldn’t live without me? He clarified that he still didn’t want anything serious, but would I be interested in a no-strings hookup?
I politely declined. Lucas and I had plans.
Nearly 280 filmmakers entered the Internet Archive’s Public Domain Film Remix Contest this year. Above, a still from King of Jazz. The 1930 film was used as source material in several contest submissions.
Universal Pictures/Internet Archive
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Universal Pictures/Internet Archive
One of the most unusual of the creative treasures to enter the public domain this month is King of Jazz. The plotless, experimental 1930 musical film shot in early Technicolor centers on influential bandleader Paul Whiteman, nicknamed “The King of Jazz.”
In one memorable scene, the portly, mustachioed Whiteman opens a small bag and winks at the camera as miniature musicians file out one after another like a colony of ants and take their places on an ornate, table-top bandstand.
A new video based on clips from King of Jazz has won this year’s Public Domain Film Remix Contest — an annual competition that invites filmmakers from around the world to reimagine often long-forgotten literary classics, films, cartoons, music, and visual art that are now in the public domain. This means creators can use these materials freely, without copyright restrictions. In 2026, works created in 1930 entered the public domain.
Titled Rhapsody, Reimagined, the roughly two-minute video captures the King of Jazz‘s surreal quality: Cookie-cutter rows of musicians, showgirls, office workers and random furniture cascade across the screen as Whiteman’s winking face looks on.
“I wanted to transform the figures and bodies into more dream-like shapes through collage and looping and repetition,” said Seattle-based filmmaker Andrea Hale, who created the piece in collaboration with composer Greg Hardgrave. For video artists, Hale said discovering what’s new in the public domain each January is a thrill. “We’re always looking for things to draw from,” Hale said. “Opening that up to a bigger spread of materials is amazing. That’s the dream.”
A massive repository of content
The Internet Archive, the San Francisco-based nonprofit library behind the contest, digitizes and provides public access to a massive repository of content, including many materials used by contest participants. “These materials have often just been in film canisters for decades,” said digital librarian Brewster Kahle, who founded the Internet Archive in 1996.
This year’s submissions range from a reworking of the 1930 film The Blue Angel starring Betty Boop — another public domain entrant this year — instead of Marlene Dietrich, to an AI-generated take on the 1930 Nancy Drew book The Mystery at Lilac Inn.
Kahle said the Internet Archive received nearly 280 entries this time around, the highest number since the competition launched six years ago. “Things are not just musty, old archival documentation of the past,” Kahle said. “People are bringing them to life in new and different ways, without fear of being sued.”
The public domain in the era of AI
Lawsuits have become a growing concern for artists and copyright holders, especially with the rise of generative AI. Recent years have seen a surge in online video takedowns and copyright infringement disputes.
Media companies are trying to address the problem through deals with tech firms, such as Disney and OpenAI’s plan, announced late last year, to introduce a service allowing users to create short videos based on copyrighted characters, including Cinderella and Darth Vader.
“On the one hand, these licensing agreements seem quite a clean solution to thorny legal questions,” said Jennifer Jenkins, director of the Center for the Study of the Public Domain at Duke Law School. “But what’s exciting about the public domain is that material, after a long, robust 95-year copyright term, is just simply free for anyone — without a team of lawyers, without a licensing agreement, without having to work for Disney or OpenAI — to just put online,” Jenkins said.
Jenkins also pointed out an interesting twist for people who create new works using materials from the public domain. “You actually get a copyright in your remix,” she said. “Just like Disney has copyrights in all of its remakes of wonderful public domain works like Snow White or Cinderella.” (The Brothers Grimm popularized these two characters in their 19th century collection Grimm’s Fairy Tales. But their roots are much deeper, going back to European folklore collections of the 1600s and beyond.)
However, this only applies to works created by humans — U.S. copyright law currently doesn’t recognize works authored by AI. And Jenkins further cautioned that creators only get a copyright in their new creative contributions to the remix, and not the underlying material.
This year’s Public Domain Film Remix Contest winner Andrea Hale said she’s using a Creative Commons license for Rhapsody, Reimagined. This means the filmmaker retains the copyright to her work but grants permissions that allow other people to freely use, share, and build upon it. “I’m keeping with the spirit of the public domain,” Hale said.
Mitt Romney’s Sister-In-Law
Suicide Note In Book of Mormon, Xanax In System
Published
Mitt Romney‘s sister-in-law left a handwritten suicide note tucked inside a Book of Mormon and had Xanax in her system when she died … according to the L.A. County Medical Examiner.
The ME’s report says detectives discovered a Book of Mormon on the front passenger seat of Carrie‘s car. In the final pages of the book, authorities say Carrie left a handwritten suicide note. Medications were also found inside the vehicle.
The report states Carrie had 6.3 ng/mL of Xanax in her system at the time of her death. A witness told first responders Carrie was seen pacing on the top level of the parking structure, watching security cameras, and looking over the edge of the parapet. The report also states surveillance footage captured her final moments.
The medical examiner’s findings note the injury occurred when she fell backward from a seated position on the rooftop parapet.
As we reported … Carrie died from blunt traumatic injuries after falling from the rooftop of a parking structure in Valencia, California, back in October.
Carrie’s husband, Scott Romney — Mitt’s brother — had reported her missing to the Sheriff’s Department. He told authorities she previously drove her car off a cliff two years earlier and had struggled with anxiety, per the report.
At the time of her death, Carrie was also in the middle of a divorce. Scott filed in June, citing “irreconcilable differences.” The couple married in 2016, and Carrie was Scott’s third wife.
This is the last year the Sundance Film Festival will be held in Park City, Utah. It is moving to Boulder, Colo., in 2027. Above, the Egyptian Theatre on Main Street in Park City.
Mandalit del Barco/NPR
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Mandalit del Barco/NPR
The Sundance Film Festival begins for the last time in Park City, Utah before heading to Boulder, Colo., next year. It’s a bittersweet finale for the country’s premier independent film festival, founded by Robert Redford in 1978.
With a gala, the festival plans to pay tribute to the late actor and director, who died of natural causes in September.
“Before he passed earlier this year, [Redford] shared with us this quote: ‘Everybody has a story,’” says the festival’s director, Eugene Hernandez. “This notion is such a great framing for a festival that has always been about finding and sharing with audiences the stories that come from all over the world.”
This year, the festival will screen films that got their starts at Sundance, including Little Miss Sunshine, which went on to be nominated for best picture at the 2007 Oscars.
The festival will also screen a remastered print of the 1969 movie Downhill Racer, in which Redford plays a champion skier. Redford was also a producer on this indie film.
“He would tell this story year after year about getting Downhill Racer made,” recalls Sundance senior programmer John Nein. “It became a way that he understood the notion of protecting independence and protecting the artistic voice of a film. He often used that when he talked to emerging filmmakers, to relate to the struggles that they had in getting their films made the way that they wanted to.”
Nein says one way to recognize that legacy is by programming 40 percent of the slate from first-time filmmakers. More than 16,200 films were submitted from 164 countries. Throughout the year, the Sundance Institute hosts labs and programs and provides grants and fellowships for independent filmmakers.
Over the years, Sundance has been a launching pad for filmmakers such as Quentin Tarantino, Ava DuVernay, The Coen brothers, Ryan Coogler, Chloe Zhao and Paul Thomas Anderson.
Another filmmaker whose career Sundance supported is Rachel Lambert, who says she was inspired by a film Redford directed: Ordinary People.
“It’s a profound legacy a single human being can leave an entire nation’s culture,” she says of Redford. “It’s remarkable.”
Lambert will premiere her newest film, Carousel, a love story starring Chris Pine and Jenny Slate.
Also showing at Sundance: documentaries about Chicano theater pioneer Luis Valdez, singer Courtney Love, tennis star Billie Jean King, and South African leader Nelson Mandela.
Among the features in competition is The Gallerist with Natalie Portman and Jenna Ortega.
Another is The Invite, with Olivia Wilde, Seth Rogen, Penélope Cruz and Edward Norton. The Invite‘s producer, David Permut, has been faithfully attending Sundance since the late 1980s, when he was in the audience for Steven Soderbergh’s breakout Sex, Lies, and Videotape.
“I never miss Sundance. I’ve been going every year since,” says Permut. “I stay for 10 days, I’m not in and out like a lot of people from Hollywood when they’re there with their film. I love the second week because it’s basically cinephiles from all over the world.”
Permut showed his first film at Sundance — Three of Hearts — in 1993. Last year, his film Twinless won the festival’s audience award.
“I have 57 movies I want to see this coming Sundance,” he says. “For me, it’s about discovery.”
Actress Hana Mana in The Friend’s House Is Here. The film was smuggled out of Iran to premiere at this year’s Sundance Film Festival.
Alma Linda Films
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Alma Linda Films
Some filmmakers have gone to great lengths to get their work screened this year — including the Iranian film The Friend’s House is Here.
The drama—set in Tehran’s underground art scene — was shot under the radar of Iranian authorities. Amid the country’s recent political turmoil, members of the film’s crew had to drive 11 hours to smuggle the film over the Turkish border to get it to the festival. According to the film’s publicist, the film’s two main actresses were not heard from for weeks during Iran’s recent unrest. The publicist says the women are now safe but have been denied visas by the United States to attend Sundance.
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