Welcome back to The Weekend Press! Today, MAGA lobbyist Ches McDowell reminisces about hunting with the president’s son. Suzy Weiss reviews a provocative new novel from the author of “I’m Glad My Mom Died.” And more! But first, Weekend Press editor Freya Sanders introduces our Beckham bonanza:
When we argue about the latest crazy thing a celebrity has done, we’re actually arguing about how normal people should behave. Or at least, that’s what I tell my boss when he asks why I want to do pieces about things like Brooklyn Beckham’s latest Instagram post.
On Tuesday, America woke up to find that the eldest son of British soccer legend David Beckham and his Spice Girl wife, Victoria, had uploaded a lengthy screed about how his parents suck and he never wants to talk to them again.
Their alleged crimes range from failing to support Brooklyn’s wife when she was trying to raise money for displaced dogs after the LA fires to trying to get him to sign away the rights to his own name to protect “Brand Beckham”—which, Brooklyn said, “comes first.”
Obviously, the internet pounced—not only because it was a juicy story but also because it struck a nerve. One of the most hotly debated and painful disagreements in the culture right now is whether—and if so, when—it’s okay to cut a family member out of your life. (I know this because I’m the editor of Tough Love and have seen how many readers write to Abigail Shrier because they’re devastated that their son or brother or mother won’t talk to them.)
So, when l’affaire Beckham struck, I asked a handful of my writers: Do you think Brooklyn is right to publicly break up with his family? Their opinions varied wildly—so in true Free Press style, we’re publishing two very different perspectives.
Kat Rosenfield thinks Brooklyn is a typical Gen Z, foolishly indulging in the TikTok trend of “going no contact” with parents who have committed minor infractions. The way we talk about our families online, she writes, has left young people unable to tell when a situation is just uncomfortable and when it’s genuinely abusive—or between a “toxic” relative and one who’s just imperfect.
Kara Kennedy, however, surprised herself by feeling bad for Brooklyn. True, she writes, he’s a “tragically untalented nepo baby”—but growing up in the public eye has probably messed with him. “Brooklyn Beckham does not know how to have a private confrontation, because he was not raised in a private home,” she writes. His existence was sold to the newspapers while he was still in his mother’s womb: Who can blame him for rebelling?
There aren’t many people in the world who have killed a 700-pound bear, but Ches McDowell, MAGA’s favorite lobbyist, is one of them. He recently met our reporter Gabe Kaminsky for Two Drinks (and some expensive steak)—and regaled him with stories about taking the vice president to his first NASCAR race and the time he scared the hell out of his hunting buddy Donald Trump Jr. during a deer hunt. He also explained the benefits of hiring Robert F. Kennedy Jr.’s nephew. “He can talk to these big pharmaceutical companies and say, ‘Look, this is what Bobby thinks about this.’”
For all our talk about teenage girls—what they’re wearing, how they’re hurting themselves, why they’re joining OnlyFans—we’re not honest enough about their desires. So argues Suzy Weiss, in her review of Jennette McCurdy’s provocative new novel, “Half His Age.” (It’s about a teenage girl who has a torrid affair with her teacher.) Suzy also weighs up this week’s Oscar nominations; she found “Sinners,” which got a record-breaking 16, forgettable, but grudgingly admits Emma Stone deserves to be named Best Actress.
At the age of 79, Susie Kaufman discovered Latin dancing via a class in a Minnesota community center. She was instantly transported back to the 1950s New York City of her youth—and definitively proved the old adage that you’re only as young as you feel. “I can have back pain and a headache from a bad night’s sleep, but the music doesn’t take no for an answer,” she writes. “It is irresistible.”
For the last few months, Kat Rosenfield has been investigating the rumors that destroyed the life of Jay Asher, a formerly acclaimed young-adult fiction writer who got caught up in a very strange #MeToo storm. No one ever publicly accused him of assault, but he was still branded a “rapist.” To find out why, read Kat’s remarkable investigation, published earlier this week:
Also, you won’t want to miss River Page’s fascinating interview with an 18-year-old who says she became a multimillionaire overnight thanks to OnlyFans, as well as the latest masterful columns from Abigail Shrier and Arthur Brooks. Enjoy!
How should you spend your weekend? We asked our staff editor Jillian Lederman for her picks. . .
🥫Eat. . . There’s a snowstorm brewing, and if you haven’t already ransacked your local grocery store for ingredients, you’re probably out of luck for anything gourmet. So it’s a good time for me to admit that I firmly believe soup from a can is a perfectly respectable dinner. Lately, I’ve developed a fixation on Trader Joe’s chicken noodle soup. It may not be glamorous, but it’s classic, low-maintenance, and—to my knowledge so far—impossible to mess up.
📖Read. . . I run books coverage here at The Free Press, which means somehow I get paid to read at the office. It also means I spend most of my time reading books that haven’t yet been released. So I’ll recommend one of my very favorites from late last year: Paul Kingsnorth’s Against the Machine is one of the greatest odes to humanity you’ll ever read. (We got to publish an excerpt!) And while you’re at it, check out his Substack, where he’s back writing after a couple months off. He didn’t ask me to promote him, but I’m doing it anyway.
🎵Listen. . . Several months ago, I stumbled across a song called “Be Happy” from the official cast recording of the musical Two Strangers (Carry a Cake Across New York). It was captivating. The lyrics, in all their simplicity, capture every elusive quality of youth: naivety, loneliness, hope, and excruciating, breathless uncertainty. The musical recently opened on Broadway—but if you’re not in New York, the soundtrack will make you feel as though you are.
❄️Watch. . . This is not a weekend to watch things. It’s snowing! Bundle up. Get outside. Make snow angels. Go sledding. Build a snowman. As my colleague Will Rahn advised this week: Let the kids skip Zoom-school and throw snowballs. Flurries are coming, and it’s the most exciting thing in the world. (And yes, maybe after all that, go home and watch Harry Potter.)
Last but not least, feast your eyes on this cheeky 20th-century rendering of the Boston Tea Party, by Ralph Cahoon, which Suzy mentions in her column this week—it just sold for $69,850 at Christie’s.
That’s all, folks! Have a great weekend.
Much ado about who cares!
All Beckhams and the like are dimestore comic figures, animated annoyingly by audio-video.