The Brief

"Who here loves Bikini Kill?" asked the feminist organizer Sonya Passi on-stage at Olivia Rodrigo's Daisy Chain Fields festival in Irvine, Calif., on Saturday. Under a merciless, 94-degree sun, the crowd roared.

Passi had just identified herself as the founder of FreeFrom, a non-profit working to end gender-based violence by providing survivors with material support. It's one of 10 organizations benefitting from the $20 million raised by the inaugural edition of Rodrigo's one-day, women-led concert, which brought together the likes of Chappell Roan, The Breeders, Stevie Nicks and Doechii for an intergenerational audience of about 45,000. "Bikini Kill helped teach an entire generation that you don't wait for permission to be loud about what matters," Passi said of the '90s feminist punk icons, who now faced thousands of girls for whom the band's galvanic anthems, like "Double Dare Ya" and "Rebel Girl," were designed.

Frontwoman Kathleen Hanna didn't waste a second cutting through to them. "A lot of us feel like this government f****** hates us and wants us dead," she said before Bikini Kill played a note. "They don't give a s*** about anybody's healthcare. They don't care if we die in parking lots of curable illnesses. They don't care if our rights are taken away. They're ripping people off the streets. It makes it hard for me in my body sometimes to have a good time 'cause it's hard to turn it off. And I was thinking on the way here, what a gift to be able to play for you. What a gift Olivia has given all of us to do this festival." Then Bikini Kill instigated its intervention of Revolution Girl Style Now! as young women in T-shirts proclaiming "Girls to the Front" and "F*** AI" screamed.

With proceeds going to organizations like Center for Reproductive Rights and National Women's Law Center, the first Daisy Chain was an extension of Rodrigo's consistent outspokenness about both abortion access and her musical heroes, who've influenced the pop star's emotional clarity and ripping sound. For the artist's Guts tour in 2024, Rodrigo donated ticket proceeds to abortion funds and advocacy groups passed out emergency contraceptive pills to concertgoers. On the Daisy Chain grounds, branches of a Yoko Ono "Wish Tree" were tagged by attendees with hopes for universal healthcare and a free Palestine; one tag simply read "Girlhood is healing." A concrete walkway was painted with quotes from Angela Davis, Audre Lorde and Maya Angelou, a literal path paved by the achievements of historic women.

Two stages — the rock-oriented "Marigold," where flower crowns, crochet and at least one mohawk swirled in gentle circle pits; and the bigger "Dandelion," which leaned pop — were both visually framed by giant buttons evoking the aesthetic of 1970s women's liberation, bearing slogans like "Bans Off Our Bodies" and "Reproductive Rights Are Human Rights." Tattooed mothers with pink-haired daughters sprawled on blankets. A shockingly long line formed for a sparkly Rodrigo-branded Taco Bell pop-up thing ("You Look Pretty Pink for a Baja Blast"). T-shirts abounded honoring the late Dolly Parton, patron saint Fiona Apple and the campaign for Dykes Against Deportation, not to mention Lilith Fair, the hugely successful, all-women touring fest of the late-'90s that served as an explicit inspiration to Daisy Chain. Over on Dandelion in the early afternoon, Santigold played her spiky 2008 classic "L.E.S. Artistes," then beamed: "I can't believe she pulled this s*** off!"

Two stages were both visually framed by giant buttons evoking the aesthetic of 1970s women's liberation, bearing slogans like "Bans Off Our Bodies" and "Reproductive Rights Are Human Rights."

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By mid-afternoon the $250-a-ticket festival began to feel perilously overcrowded, with unmanageable lines for food and a concerning lack of shade in extreme heat — that the collective electric mood seemed to prevail anyway was a testament to the sure-mindedness of this women-and-girl-dominated setting. I wondered too going into Daisy Chain whether its stated political mission would feel sidelined or effectually woven into the day, and I was moved to see the latter in action. Attendees could brave yet another long line to enter the expo of booths for the fest's benefiting nonprofits, earning free merch if they visited every table. Organizers took the stages between most sets. "Where a woman lives should never determine if she lives," stated a rep from women's health nonprofit Jhpiego before introducing pop-rock singer-songwriter Rachel Chinouriri. The executive director of Black Mamas Matter Alliance explained the org's mission to end maternal mortality before declaring, "everybody deserves healthcare and it is our human right," then joyfully proclaimed: "Now give it up for Doechii!" Daisy Chain's mission clearly incited artists to speak out onstage, too — the young, heavy rock band Die Spitz (its drummer in corpse paint) succinctly punctuated its set, growling, "Free Palestine, f*** ICE, thank you Olivia!"

During Bikini Kill's blazing set, Kathleen Hanna directly addressed the young people at Daisy Chain and told them to keep teaching the older people in their lives — "We have so much that we can learn from one another," she insisted — and to keep their diaries, which constitute their art, and which will create the world. A participatory spirit was stoked, too, by an exhibition, "Grrrl Germs: Punk feminism goes viral 1991-2026," curated by the artist Astria Suparak, presenting artifacts of DIY feminist punk with blown-up flyers, manifestos, zines, and listening stations (it also functioned as a desperately needed defacto cooling center). I spoke with two young women who were learning about riot grrrl's history for the first time and pointed out its relevance in an age of social media self-commodification and Ozempic. "Younger girls need to be exposed to this," said Claire Hendrick, 24. "You can read about empowerment, but it's so different when you're with people in community, actually doing it and being it."

When Lilith Fair founder Sarah McLachlan guested during Rodrigo's headlining set, it felt like a kind of act of historical justice, too — like a continuum strengthened. "Without Lilith Fair there would be no Daisy Chain," said Rodrigo, who was filmed for a 2025 Lilith documentary about a year before she began plotting to revive it in her own image. Rodrigo and McLachlan harmonized radiantly on "Building a Mystery" and "Angel," the latter of which McLachlan dedicated to Parton, who she called "the biggest philanthropist in the history of country music." Rodrigo reminded the crowd that McLachlan created Lilith during an era when the music industry insisted that two women could not co-headline a show or be played back-to-back on the radio; the tour's overwhelming success upended those bigoted notions.

During Bikini Kill's blazing set, Kathleen Hanna directly addressed the young people at Daisy Chain.

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Lilith was a festival that Sinead O'Connor called "very healing," that Emmylou Harris called "heaven," that Erykah Badu likened to a shared frequency changed. But after its run from 1997 to 1999, the misogynist backlash was instantaneous. Like Parton, Lilith Fair endured years in which its legacy was diminished to a punchline by some in the media (and maybe I would have written Lilith off as too mainstream in its day, too, when certain intellectual DIY bands would never have shared space at a festival with Starbucks-backed singer-songwriters). I personally came of age among a patriarchal, 2000s music industry that seemed hellbent on siphoning women's power. In hindsight, measuring the scale of the blowback to '90s cultural feminism feels like a reminder, in a sense, that equity for women at any level of our world, when not rigorously defended, risks disappearing.

Exiting the festival, I noticed the enormous number of girls carrying copies of the pink, stapled Daisy Chain Fields Zine. It was available at the merch stands for a suggested donation, filled with interviews, essays, and archival ephemera — a scan from Breeders bassist Josephine Wiggs' 1992 journal; a treatise from writer Rayne Fisher-Quann about female friendship that critiques pop-feminism and quotes Marxist philosopher Antonio Gramsci — plus instructions on how to create your own pocket-sized pamphlet. An intro letter from Rodrigo credits Hanna with inspiring the zine and thanks her for contributing all of the questions posed to the artists, like "What is your favorite protest song or song about women's power?" (Mitski wrote a whole list, including Malvina Reynolds' brilliant "It Isn't Nice") or, "What is something you like about yourself?" I liked imagining young people posing these questions back onto themselves, leaving with something tangible, with the manifold futures of this imperfect gateway and with power in their own hands.
Copyright 2026 NPR

Updated November 14, 2026 at 13:52 PM ET

WASHINGTON— Friday's nationwide ground stop started when a contractor updated old Federal Aviation Administration telecommunication lines, Transportation Secretary Sean Duffy said Saturday.

Tens of thousands of passengers across the U.S. are still stranded Saturday after the rare ground stop. Bryan Bedford, the FAA administrator who joined Duffy at Saturday's media briefing, said schedule problems should be resolved by Sunday evening.

Nearly 25,000 flights were delayed, and over 9,000 were cancelled on Friday, according to FlightAware, a flight tracking site. The disruption seeped into Saturday morning with more than 4,000 cancellations recorded, which is 18% of flights departing the U.S., according to data from Cirium, an aviation analytics company.

L3Harris, a long time contractor for the FAA, was doing routine maintenance in at least one remote location changing copper wire to fiber optics, Duffy said. "When I tell you that we're using old equipment, we're using old equipment," he said.

He said the FAA is still investigating the exact error that started flooding other routers in the air traffic control system, and if L3Harris was at all responsible.

"It's pretty straightforward work that we were doing yesterday at, again, a very remote location. So what we're working to determine was whether we had incompetence, meaning was it user error, installator error from L3Harris, or did they install a faulty router?"

L3Harris did not immediately respond to NPR's request for comment.

These updates have been happening in American institutions for decades, Duffy said.

"Virtually every single institution in America has gone from copper to fiber, from analog to digital," Duffy said. "Just maybe the FAA is the last one to be doing this work because the investments haven't been made, but this is not complicated."

Bedford said there was no evidence of anything nefarious happening or any AI-related issues.

Since his time in office, Duffy said he's been asking Congress for money to make more upgrades. In July 2025, Congress approved $12.5 billion to modernize the nation's aging air traffic control system.

With that money, 70% of copper communications have been replaced to high-speed fiber, Bedford said. Duffy called the innovations and the need for more a "bipartisan moment."

"This is the moment, if we don't start to switch out our systems, when, how long are we going to wait, America, and Congress?" Duffy asked.

Thousands of passengers miss flights

Passengers wait at boarding gates at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport in Washington, DC on November 13, 2026.

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For about four hours on Friday, thousands of flights at U.S. airports were grounded in one of the biggest disruptions of the nation's air travel system since the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001.

The aviation system is back online and slowly returning to normal Saturday morning, but delays and cancellations will continue, Duffy said. Bedford said all passengers will be put on new flights or they'll get a full refund, but that people should reach out to their airlines directly.

Flight boards at airports across the country Saturday morning continued to be riddled with red cancelled marks. At Tampa International Airport in Florida, people in the main terminal area before security curled up in chairs to grab a wink of sleep.

On Friday night, a flight board at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport in D.C. showed dozens of flights delayed into the early morning hours or cancelled.

Passengers Erin and Jake Britt spent half the day at the airport in D.C. on Friday. Their plane to Fort Lauderdale, Fla. boarded at 3 p.m. By 5:30 p.m., they were getting off the plane — but they were still in D.C.

"Overall, our plane was definitely annoyed, but reasonable," Erin Britt said, as the couple left the airport at 8 p.m. "People being upset and asking like, 'Well, how are you not prepared for this?' And it was like, 'Well, no one was prepared.'"

She said neither the pilot nor flight attendants had any more information than passengers."They seem just as in the dark," she said.

The pair decided to cancel their weekend trip, but the night didn't end there. They spent over nine hours overnight waiting on the JetBlue customer service call line to be reimbursed. "I was setting alarms in 20 minute intervals in case I fell asleep," Erin Britt said.

For people who had events or plans over the weekend – the delay added an extra layer of stress. Joe Romano and Maddie Cabana had a cruise leaving Orlando, Fla. Saturday afternoon.

"It was a big eye roll. I mean, I travel a lot for work already, so I'm constantly dealing with flight delays," Romano said. "When this happened, I was just like, 'Of course, it always happens to me.'"

"Just rather inconvenient and frustrating," Cabana added, as the pair contemplated checking their bags or going home. They even thought about driving to Florida. "Hopefully, everything will be fine. It'll all work out. It always does."

And it did— eventually. After their JetBlue flight was ultimately cancelled, they quickly booked another one on Southwest Airlines and made it early Saturday morning.

Others, like Suze DiPietro decided flying wasn't worth it anymore. Her husband drove about four hours down from Ocean City, New Jersey to pick her up in D.C. Luckily, they had friends in the area where they spent the night.

"My husband, my hero, is driving down from New Jersey to come get me," DiPietro said.

Other alternatives included people switching to Amtrak trains as they struggled to get to their destination. Although, even Amtrak's system had a brief outage Friday night.

This was only the second nationwide ground stop since September 11, 2001. The U.S. last issued a ground stop of this scale in 2023, when all U.S. airports were shut down due to an outage in the NOTAM (Notice to Air Missions) system, which alerts pilots and airports of real-time hazards.

That outage prompted fears of a cyberattack, but the FAA later determined the issue was caused when contract workers inadvertently deleted critical files.

The FAA has recently begun rolling out an AI-enhanced software tool known as the SMART system as part of its ambitious overhaul of the nation's air traffic control system. But Air Space Intelligence, the company that makes the tool, quickly dismissed speculation that its product could be connected to the flight disruptions.

"The current ground stop is not based on or a result of the SMART system, any product of ASI or our integration with FAA and ATC," the company said on social media.

Ava Pukatch contributed to reporting.

Copyright 2026 NPR

Eggs from the first confirmed sea turtle nests found on the U.S. West Coast have hatched.

"We are excited to share that some of the olive ridley sea turtle eggs from Seal Beach successfully hatched after a 58-day incubation period," said the Aquarium of the Pacific in a social media post.

The Long Beach-based aquarium has been keeping watch over 204 olive ridley sea turtle eggs, laid on Seal Beach and Huntington Beach in September. A second set of eggs found on Huntington Beach is still incubating

The aquarium said the hatchlings were released early Saturday morning in a coastal area with little light and human disturbances.

Baby turtles, the aquarium said, go through a “frenzy period” after hatching, where they swim nonstop for up to two days

The eggs came from the first confirmed sea turtle nests found on the U.S. West Coast. Scientists say unusually warming water tied to El Niño likely drew the rare turtles to the Southern California coast.

A couple of decades ago, a friend in New York told me about something happening that was kinda underground and just getting traction. It was called “The Moth.” People took turns telling a true, personal story, with no notes, named after the Southern tradition of sitting on front porches and sharing spellbinding tales — with moths flying mesmerized around the porchlight.

It sounded amazing. And terrifying. I filed it under the same list as bungee jumping — no doubt exhilarating but something I’d never do — and got on with my life. Over the years, as it grew bigger and bigger, I went to several Moth events in different cities, and was always so impressed with the storytellers — and equally adamant I’d never do it.

Cut to this September, when a message went out to all the staff at LAist. We’re a media sponsor of The Moth, and an event, a open mike StorySLAM, was coming up in Silver Lake. There were a few tickets available. Did anyone want one? The theme was "Divas." Sure, I thought. I’d go watch. It's always fun.

Nagging thought

As the days went by, the same thought kept nagging at me. How about getting on stage yourself? No, I thought. Too risky. But this time there was another thought, even more vehement. Why are you being held hostage by fear? Life is too short. If you want to do something, you just have to do it. And this opportunity has just fallen into your lap.

So when the day came, I went to the event, and put my name in the hat. Would I be picked? I sat there with sweaty palms as the show started and people came up tell their own funny, moving, poignant stories.

Finally, near the end of the show, my name was called out. Gulp. I walked on stage to the mic, and began telling my story.

“Some years ago I was a BBC radio producer. A show host and I were at Albuquerque airport, on our way to Los Alamos to do interviews about the Manhattan project. But when we got to the gate, it was closed. They’d boarded the plane 15 minutes early. We couldn't believe it. There was only one plane per day and we'd flown in from London and were on a tight schedule. What should we do?”

Holding their breath

It was a strange experience, simultaneously storytelling while looking at the audience and scanning for their reactions. They seemed to be enjoying themselves.... and were holding their breath, waiting to see what came next.

“I could see the plane on the tarmac, one of those regional planes with propellers, on the other side of an alarmed emergency exit door. So I decided, in the heat of the moment, to push it open, and started dashing across the tarmac, yelling for the host to follow me. Security men began running towards me from every direction as the alarm blared loudly.”

The audience was laughing with delight and disbelief, and I was laughing, too, at the recollection. What on earth had made me do that? Ah, my young, impulsive, determined self. Just as well it wasn’t today, post 9/11. I’d be dead.

“As I reached the plane, the security men were shouting 'What are you doing? You can’t run onto the tarmac!' That’s when the diva part came in. I drew myself up to my full 5’ 2” and said, determinedly, 'No, YOU were the ones who boarded the plane early. We did everything right! We have our tickets, we have interviews to do and we are going to get on this plane.'"

The security men looked at each other, unsure what to do. Maybe it was the British accent, or not being used to a woman giving them a dressing down. But one of them shrugged, moved out of the way, and they let us get on the plane. "Hurray! And we made it to Los Alamos, in time to do our interviews. Thank you.”

The audience went crazy, clapping and whooping. I was standing there grinning stupidly. I couldn’t believe I’d done it.

Yes, the story went down well. And the audience hadn't eaten me alive. But there was something bigger, something even more satisfying in my reaction. I’d had made myself do something I was scared of. I'd faced my demons.... and survived.

A lesson for us all.

If you happen to see 600 people snaking down 14.3 miles of Santa Monica Boulevard (and then some) on Saturday, Nov. 21 — their sole purpose is just to … walk.

“For years people were asking us, ‘What are you doing?’” said Michael Schneider, founder of the Great Los Angeles Walk.

These strolls are maximalist in nature, usually covering the entire length of a given thoroughfare. Sunset Boulevard. Melrose Avenue. Ventura Boulevard.

The inaugural Great L.A. Walk in 2006 along Wilshire Boulevard.

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How the walk began 

The pre-Thanksgiving tradition started in 2006 with Wilshire Boulevard. Schneider, who had reached the milestone of living in L.A. for a decade, was inspired by a book about the street’s history to walk its entire 15.8 miles on foot. He asked others to join on his blog Franklin Avenue.

About two dozen people showed up. That day, they popped into storefronts, stopped by restaurants, sneaked into the Park Plaza Hotel near MacArthur Park and shot up to the roof. “That kind of unearthed a whole new side of Los Angeles as we walked down Wilshire,” he said.

By the time the trek reached the ocean, folks were asking Schneider about next year. Now, it's always on the Saturday before Thanksgiving.

“I inadvertently turned it into an annual tradition,” he said.

The 2016 edition of Great L.A. Walk along Pico Boulevard.

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The 2007 installment was Pico Boulevard — with restaurant recommendations along the route handpicked by the late Pulitzer-winning food critic Jonathan Gold.

Eventually, Schneider included themed walks. March of Los Pobladores — which retraces the final leg of the 1781 journey taken by the original founders of L.A. — from the San Gabriel Mission to downtown. And USC to UCLA when the rivals faced off on game day.

This year’s route: Route 66 

This year's theme is Route 66.

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This year’s focus is Route 66, marking the centennial of the iconic road. Saturday's walk will start in Echo Park, then go the whole way down Santa Monica Boulevard and end at the pier, totaling about 16 miles.

“You see so many different versions of Los Angeles,” he said.

Michael Schneider, founder of the Great L.A. Walk, at last year's trot along Wilshire Boulevard.

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Celebrity sightings and a marquee shout-out 

One year, he said, the group walked by Magic Johnson.

“He waved at us," Schneider said. "Probably was wondering why [there were] hundreds of people walking past where he was."

As many as 600 people now join the walk, he said. As the number grows, so too has its legend.

“Now we find a lot of people who know who we are,” he said. “You hear people say, ‘Hey, it's the Great L.A. Walk.”