on being happy just being at the table.
The season 3 finale of HBO’s ‘White Lotus’ hit different, but still hit.
Queering the Burbs is a distillation of pop culture, politics and queerness published twice weekly by Joe Erbentraut. If you like what you see, please consider subscribing (many posts are free!), liking or sharing this piece, or buying Joe a coffee. Order Joe’s zine, Issue #01, here.

Nearly 48 hours have passed since the season finale of the latest installment of HBO’s hit miniseries The White Lotus aired and I’m still tossing the events that unfolded in Thailand around in my little bird brain. (And this is your warning that minor spoilers lie in the paragraphs ahead if you haven’t had the chance to watch it yet.)
I understand why some fans were disappointed by the finale—and the season as a whole. It’s hard to argue with the pacing of this season being much more of a slow burn than previous editions, which probably owes a lot to it being the longest season of the show thus far. I agree with many of the critiques of the finale failing to deliver on the Ratliff family’s reaction to the news almost certainly coming through on their smartphones: that their family life has essentially imploded. I wonder what characters like Mook and Fabian were really there to accomplish. I also continue to be mystified by the entire cast seemingly being unbothered by the fact that they just were in close proximity to (or directly witnessed!) a mass murder which surely would have prompted a thorough, lengthy police investigation.
Putting all of that aside, though, the part of the finale that has stuck in my brain the most is Carrie Coon’s monologue as Laurie at the last dinner she shares with her friends Jaclyn and Kate (played by Michelle Monaghan and Leslie Bibb).
In the monologue, Laurie sums up her experience of staying at the White Lotus as one of sadness but also a powerful realization: “I don’t need religion or God to give my life meaning because time gives it meaning. We started this life together. We’re going through it apart, but we’re still together. And I look at you guys and it feels meaningful. I can’t explain it, but when we’re just sitting around the pool talking about whatever inane shit, it still feels very fucking deep.”
“I’m glad you have a beautiful face,” Laurie tells Jaclyn. “And I’m glad you have a beautiful life,” she tells Kate. “And I’m just happy to be at the table.”
Laurie’s remarks, I believe, get at the heart of this show’s journey—the struggle to be present and to recognize the bounty of our lives as-is as being the key to happiness and fulfillment. Aimee Lou Wood’s Chelsea also speaks to this in her words spoken to Walton Goggins’ Rick before they both meet their tragic ends in the finale: “Stop worrying about the love you didn’t get. Think about the love you have. I love you.”
I think these words are resonating for a lot of people in my millennial age cohort right now, but the takeaway here is pretty much universal. As tempting as it may be, we can’t waste our lives comparing ourselves—our families, our houses, our jobs, our accomplishments—to the other people in our lives and in our phones, as easy as social media makes it to do just that. The endgame of the pursuit of more, more, more is just more emptiness. The quest for perfection is futile.
These words in the finale also made me think of the Jaclyns and Kates in my life—particularly those friends of mine I’ve been lucky to remain close with for two decades or more. These are the loved ones whose friendship I hold most dear—we’ve seen each other through our highest highs and lowest lows and, even as our lives diverge in priorities, geographic locations, and maybe even worldviews, that connection cannot be severed. When back in close physical proximity, it’s like no time passed at all—the distance and the differences ultimately don’t matter. That connection is also not the norm—our world is built to isolate and separate. To stay bonded over time and through space is a sacred act.
Above all, I took the finale as an opportunity, too, to take stock of my life and express gratitude for the many gifts I enjoy. Even in the wake of some more disappointing job search news last week, I feel so fortunate to enjoy the support of dear friends near and far in many forms.
I feel grateful for comforting treats at New Moon Vegan and for matinee screenings of Princess Mononoke. I’m thankful for pizza bagels shipped magically across the country and pole barns packed with queer punks and trans baddies. I feel so lucky to experience spring blooms and hugs from my niece. I’m elated that Mercury is finally stationing direct, so hopefully I’ll stop getting so many confusing emails. Hell, even with two root canals under my belt so far this year, I’m grateful for modern dentistry.
I’m also grateful for community and for everyone who reads this and supports this newsletter, its zine edition, and also supports my many queer and trans artist friends. I know these are incredibly difficult, trying times for so many people in our community, nation, and world, and I don’t ever want to take your continued support for granted. Thank you.
I’m gearing up to conduct more community interviews to feature here in the newsletter. I’m continuing to search for full-time work and filling in the gaps with freelance gigs here and there (though I have room to take on more)! I’m also starting work soon on the second edition of the Queering the Burbs zine, and am feeling refueled by the resistance to fascism unfolding around us. I’m hoping to have it completed by the summer, with much more news to come soon.
I hope that everyone reading this has found your table to be at, with the people you love—but if any of them offer you a pina colada, just be sure the coconut milk isn’t off.
Now, where do you think White Lotus season four will take place? Any takers for a Great Wolf Lodge in rural Ohio?
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SONG OF THE RIGHT-NOW
The more time I spend with the ambitious Transa project, the more I admire it. There’s a lot to love—46 tracks in all—and every day it seems I find a new track or bridge that really speaks to me. My latest hyperfixation here is Canadian trans singer-songwriter Beverly Glenn-Copeland’s “Ever New,” which takes new shape as a warm, inviting collaboration with nonbinary Grammy winner Sam Smith on this album.
If you haven’t given this or other songs on Transa a listen yet, I don’t think you’ll regret it. The compilation even landed on our girl Kelly Clarkson’s daytime talk show to coincide with Trans Day of Visibility the other week.
Welcome the spring, the summer rain
Softly turned to sing again
Love this take on the finale, Joe. I also loved that moment w the three friends: I saw some analysis here and there that her monologue was "unearned" but sometimes our perspectives do shift and pivot on a dime. Sometimes we do wake up and realize some very big stuff.
I don't watch a ton of TV bc I have ants in my pants and can't sit still but I was riveted this whole slow-burny season.
Such a good point about Coon’s monologue. It’s something we millennials feel so poignantly right now!
I also think the three friends’ dynamic is a master class in non-violent suspense. I had NO idea where that monologue was going, based on the tensions building over the previous few episodes. Perfection!