Had the pleasure to see the Muppets in a wonderful exhibit in Grand Rapids last year and this film served as an excellent reminder of that inspirational day.
In his own words:
“Life’s like a movie, write your own ending. Keep believing, keep pretending.”
I will likely always be more of a George Carlin or Kurt Vonnegut, but I will forever strive to be a Jim Henson.
Truly the day cinema peaked.
(Photo by Howard Barlow)
As heard on Little Steven’s Underground Garage:
The renaissance had come and gone. It ended with either Who’s Next in August, ’71, or The Rolling Stones’ Exile on Main St., May of ’72. You can argue all night about which record began the renaissance, but nobody’s going to argue that starting somewhere around Jackie Brenston’s Rocket 88, 1951, the next twenty years would be the most inspiring, explore the most innovations, and have the most significant cultural impact in musical history. The level of greatness achieved in virtually every musical genre (blues, jazz, gospel, country, rhythm and blues, rockabilly, soul, and rock ‘n roll) was so extraordinary that it will never be equaled. Not until new instruments are invented, new scales used, and new technological means of communication are plugged directly into your cerebral cortex… Beginning somewhere in the early ’70s, musicianship and singer-songwriter craft replaced visceral, passionate, accessible, danceable rock ‘n roll as intellect and sophistication became the mainstream… So what do you do in the face of this rather harsh reality? A reality that says the ’50s are over, the ’60s are over, fun is over, and you missed it? It’s a secondhand culture for you? Hand-me-down riffs, used emotions and theatrical jive.
Fortunately, you have the one thing going for you that transcends eras, fashion and time. You have the one thing that all truly great rock ‘n roll bands have in common: you’re gonna play in a band because you have no other choice. You don’t fit in anywhere in society and you can’t do anything else. You might as well ignore everything that is going on, and invent your own style. You might as well be the most important influence on the next 30 or 40 years of rock ‘n roll. You might as well be the Ramones.
“All that matters is that you are making something you love, to the best of your ability, here and now.”
Was hoping for a few real world examples from Rubin’s illustrious music career, but this is still an inspiring book on the creative process.
Here is something I need to remember:
“Living life as an artist is a practice.
You are either engaging in the practice
or you’re not.
It makes no sense to say you’re not good at it.
It’s like saying, “I’m not good at being a monk.”
You are either living as a monk or you’re not.
We tend to think of the artist’s work as the output.
The real work of the artist
is a way of being in the world.”
Also love this:
“Beware of the assumption
that the way you work
is the best way
simply because
it’s the way you’ve done it before.”
Later, he writes of the Ramones:
“Innocence brings forth innovation. A lack of knowledge can create more openings to break new ground. The Ramones thought they were making mainstream bubblegum pop. To most others, the lyrical content alone- about lobotomies, sniffing glue, and pinheads- was enough to challenge this assumption.
While the band saw themselves as the next Bay City Rollers, they unwittingly invented punk rock and started a countercultural revolution. While the music of the Bay City Rollers had great success in its time, the Ramones’ singular take on rock and roll became more popular and influential. Of all the explanations of the Ramones, the most may be: innovation through ignorance.”
Hey, ho, let’s go.
I know there’s “cooler” albums to talk about, but In Utero and Surfer Rosa were profoundly important to my teens, and I haven’t stopped listening to Mclusky Do Dallas since seeing them in San Francisco this past March.
My friend Tom had the good fortune of studying under Albini in the early 2000s and had this to say:
“Steve is one of a literal handful of people that I would consider a role model. In addition to opening my ears to what a good record should sound like, he showed me what a good person should act like. As an impressionable teenager and into my early 20s, he taught me how and why to treat people ethically and how to give absolutely zero fucks about the opinion of people who don’t.”
Some recommended reading:
Steve Albini Shows That Punk Rock Ethics Are Good Business: “If you start from the premise of refusing to be an asshole, then a lot of other decisions kind of make themselves.”
And of course his famous letter to Kurt Cobain:
“I explained this to Kurt but I thought I’d better reiterate it here. I do not want and will not take a royalty on any record I record. No points. Period. I think paying a royalty to a producer or engineer is ethically indefensible. The band write the songs. The band play the music. It’s the band’s fans who buy the records. The band is responsible for whether it’s a great record or a horrible record. Royalties belong to the band.
I would like to be paid like a plumber: I do the job and you pay me what it’s worth. The record company will expect me to ask for a point or a point and a half. If we assume three million sales, that works out to 400,000 dollars or so. There’s no fucking way I would ever take that much money. I wouldn’t be able to sleep.”
We’ll always have the music. I suggest you crank it up to 11.
Rewatching American Movie unlocked fond memories of Mark and Mike on Letterman. I cannot stop laughing.
Two massive tomes I finally conquered: The Stand and The Pale King. Wouldn’t necessarily recommend either but I am glad I read both.
Of course I love reading about movies. After making a list of my favorite (read: not the ones I think are the best) films, I realized two filmmakers had four films on my list: PT Anderson, and one that surprised, Sidney Lumet. I immediately sought out his book Making Movies. It was a bit dated in describing how the sausage is made, but it had a lot of great stories and even better advice, bits that carry over to the creation in any art form.
Shea Serrano’s Movies and Other Things was fun, and made me laugh several times.
After re-watching The Godfather and its first sequel, I picked up the novel, which was fun, pulpier than the films and had an iconic inside cover. After I read Leave the Gun, Take the Cannoli, which was even better.
Recently finished Mrs. Maisel and wanted to keep living in that world as well, so I finished my copy of Lenny Bruce’s How to Talk Dirty and Influence People and have come to the conclusion that I prefer the fictional portrayal.
And of course I love reading about music. More specifically The Beatles. Read Revolution in the Head, Dreaming The Beatles and 150 Glimpses and loved the different styles and tones of all three, especially the latter.
I did also read, as well as listened to, the Beastie Boys Book and would recommend both. The book’s art and photos are great, but the audiobook elevates the material, and is read by the most absurd cast ever, including Steve Buscemi, Elvis Costello, Chuck D, Snoop Dogg, Will Ferrell, Kim Gordon, LL Cool J, Spike Jonze, Rachel Maddow, Tim Meadows, Better Middler, Rosie Perez, Amy Poehler, Kelly Reichardt, John C. Reilly, Maya Rudolph, Jon Stewart and Ben Stiller.
A book I read about film and music and television and pop culture junk and how it all ties together was Chuck Klosterman’s The Nineties: A Book.
On Loving God had some great passages and advice, not just for Catholics.
The Swallowed Man was a fun read, the story of Pinocchio from Geppetto’s point of view (from inside the belly of the whale, no less).
“Surely You’re Joking, Mr. Feynman!” didn’t offer as much insight as I was hoping for, but it was a curious glimpse at an incredibly interesting man.
I don’t really know much about poetry but I enjoyed Rotten Perfect Mouth by Eva HD, whom I discovered after watching a film I did not care for, but the poem hasn’t left me.
(Previously on Hackneyed)
The Bear (Seasons 1-2): Second season surpassed the first. The bottleneck episodes, “Fishes” and “Forks,” were probably my two favorite single episodes of a show last year.
Brooklyn Nine-Nine (Seasons 1-8): Just what I needed. Not quite Parks or The Office, but a solid sitcom from start to finish.
Better Call Saul (Seasons 5-7): Stuck the landing. For my money, better than Breaking Bad, but also surprisingly wrapped up the entire saga perfectly.
Curb Your Enthusiasm (Season 12): Of course Larry would invent the “Spite Finale.” A hilarious remake of the Seinfeld ending that everyone hated. And the title? “No Lessons Learned.” Bravo.
Dave (Seasons 1-3): I think ‘Lil Dicky is a immensely talented MC, but I like his show much more than his music.
Euphoria (Seasons 1-2): Prestige trash (compliment).
Frasier (Season 1): It’s not the original, but enjoyable and Grammar slipped back into the role effortlessly.
I Think You Should Leave (Season 3): My friends and I joke about this all the time.
It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia (Season 16): Funnier than the last, but I think at the moment their podcast is better than their show.
Jeopardy!: A nightly ritual in this household.
The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (Season 5): It was always Midge and Susie.
Party Down (Season 3): Solid revival. Not quite as funny as the first two seasons, but this cast is too solid to fail.
Rick and Morty (Seasons 6-7): My last review still stands: “Like most nerdy things, the fan base kinda ruins it, but this show is too funny and too in my wheelhouse not to love. And quite often, it is just as deep as they say it is.”
Saturday Night Live (Seasons 48): More meh moments than classics, but not as bad as they say and sometimes flat-out hilarious. I liked every bit of last week’s episode with Gosling.
South Park (Seasons 24-26): Not at its peak, but still the most cutting satire on television.
Succession (Seasons 1-4): A masterclass in writing and acting.
Ted Lasso (Season 3): Nothin’ wrong with comfort television.
Welcome to Wrexham (Season 2): Fun!
Winning Time (Season 2): Deserved to get cancelled, but I’m still kinda bummed about that.
Re-watched this wonderfully weird film last night and still love it as much as I did 25 years ago, but agree that it now hits different:
“Today Mark Borchardt looks less like an amusing hustler, and more like a poetic and even tragic hero; the living embodiment of unfulfilled dreams. Even that scene with the unforgiving cabinet door takes on a deeper meaning. It’s still funny, but it also summarizes the lives of dreamers like Mark in a single image. The pursuit of something bigger than yourself so often feels like banging your head against the wall. And when you bang your head against a wall, the wall always wins.”
Didn’t actually pick up any tapes, but did fill my bag with jazz records: Weather Report’s self-titled debut, The Jazz Experiments of Charles Mingus, Tomorrow Is the Question! The New Music of Ornette Coleman! and Alice Coltrane’s Journey in Satchidananda.
From Wikipedia:
“Introduced in 1964 and initially called Fruit Scones, the name was soon changed to Pop-Tarts as a pun on the then popular Pop Art movement.”
(File under “things learned watching Jeopardy!)
Since Hulu launched a “top 15” list of their most popular shows and films, I decided to counter with the fifteen things currently on Hulu I’d recommend:
The Bear: Along with Ted Lasso, my favorite show right now. With how much they’ve used Wilco, they could have renamed it “I Am Trying to Break Your Heart.”
Better Things: Before The Bear or Ted Lasso, other shows had made me laugh more, but few have made me smile, cry or feel as much as this one.
Bottle Rocket: Wes Anderson’s underrated debut. Flawed, but but perhaps his funniest?
Brigsby Bear: Amusing, endearing little picture about a lot of things. I went into this fresh and think that has to be the best way to watch this so no spoilers, but if you wanna talk about Brigsby Bear I can be found at Brigsbyfan2.
Closer: Not sure what it says about me that this is one of my favorite films, but it is.
Damsels in Distress: Whit Stillman and Greta Gerwig should have made more pictures together.
Eight Days a Week: Probably the most contrarian thing about me is that I prefer The Beatles’ first half to their second.
Frasier: If we are being honest, The Dinner Parting is basically a feature-length Frasier episode.
Freaks and Geeks: Even though 21st Century comedy was born here, this brief show was even better than that fact would suggest.
Only Murders in the Building: Initially, I wasn’t sure this needed to be more than a mini series (or even a film), but it’s continued to impress.
Theatre Camp: Two-time summer camper and late-stage theatre kid who absolutely loved this film. Very funny, and perfectly cast. And I was very happy to see Alexander Bello. I think about “I Saw A White Lady Standing On The Street Just Sobbing (And I Think About It Once A Week)” about once a week.
Raising Arizona: “I tried to stand up and fly straight, but it wasn’t easy with that sumbitch Reagan in the White House.”
Spin Me Round: A dark comedy Suspiria. Saw this at Cinequest last year and everyone was in stitches, one of the hardest laughing audiences I’ve ever been in.
Welcome to Wrexham: So I like heartwarming shows about soccer, sue me.
The Wonder Years: The warmest blanket I can imagine.
Since seeing Dead and Co. in Colorado last month, the Grateful Dead have been in heavy rotation since. Perfect summer music.
Since we are now in what Dead Head’s call “The Days Between” (the days between Garcia‘s birthday and the date of his passing), if you’ve never listened, I think their run from ’70 to ’72 is perfect from the initiated.
Starting with their first great record, Workingman’s Dead and the even better American Beauty, arguably their two best studio albums, they followed up with two classic live albums, Grateful Dead and Europe ’72.
Patio hall of famers and the perfect introduction to the band.
I know I just mentioned him, but longtime music critic Steven Hyden recently ranked 100 debut albums for your reading pleasure.
Some that stood out to me:
The Go-Go’s, Beauty And The Beat (1981): “This band is in the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall Of Fame, and this album is 90 percent of the reason why.”
The Jesus & Mary Chain, Psychocandy (1985): “There are countless artists posting albums on Bandcamp right now who stole all of their ideas from The Jesus & Mary Chain, and they might not even know it. They might think they’re ripping off The Velvet Underground, but they are really ripping off this band who ripped off The Velvet Underground in the mid-’80s.”
The Mothers Of Invention, Freak Out! (1966): “I completely understand why people can’t stand the guy. He writes stupidly complicated music and stupidly stupid lyrics. Personally, I think Zappa is 1) a genius and 2) one of the most obnoxious men who ever lived.”
The B-52’s, The B-52’s (1979): “As a public service, I am sharing this video. I have watched it 25 times and I suggest you do the same. And then make this album a cornerstone of your life.”
Fiona Apple, Tidal (1998): “This might very well be the greatest debut album made by a teenager. I am exactly six days older than Fiona Apple, and I was working a customer service job in the summer of 1996, which is a million times less impressive than writing and recording ‘Shadowboxer.'”
Elvis Costello, My Aim Is True (1977): “The only track on My Aim Is True that’s not convincing is ‘I’m Not Angry,’ which is like Marvin Gaye recording a tune called ‘I’m Not Horny.'”
Pavement, Slanted And Enchanted (1992): “In the proverbial ‘what would you play for an alien to sum up this kind of music?’ scenario, Slanted And Enchanted must be regarded as the go-to soundtrack for any hipster extraterrestrial.”
Beastie Boys, Licensed To Ill (1986): “Uncut Id is taking the riff from Sabbath’s ‘Sweet Leaf” and combining it with the drum break from Zeppelin’s ‘When The Levee Breaks,’ and then inviting three idiots to chant ‘Ali Baba and the 40 thieves’ eight times over it.”
The Strokes, Is This It (2001): “Though if I ever write a column about the best second albums ever, Room On Fire might rank higher on that list than Is This It does here.”
And of course Pink Flag, Exile in Guyville, 3 Feet High & Rising, Ramones, Horses and The Velvet Underground & Nico. Jimi Hendrix took the top spot, which my stepdad would probably be happy about. DJ Shadow and Ween did get honorable mentions.
Hyden also speaks of albums that feel like debuts. In my opinion, an album in that department that always sticks out is You Forgot It in People, which projected Broken Social Scene from a small, mostly instrumental side project, to one of the most epic and ambitious rock bands this century.
A few omissions surprised me and few that made the cut downright bewildered me, but that is why I like lists like this.
Here are five I would have considered.
Violent Femmes, Violent Femmes (1982): Shocked this didn’t make the cut, so much so that I have to imagine Hyden isn’t a fan. I am hard pressed to think of too many debuts that are so quintessentially the band itself.
The Smiths, The Smiths (1984): Everything one would love about The Smiths is all right here. Not my favorite but could easily be someone’s favorite Smiths record. Especially if “This Charming Man” makes the cut.
Le Tigre, Le Tigre (1999): Their best album. Effortlessly cool, sample-laden new wave/punk record that will get you dancing more than any other radically political album I can think of.
Imperial Teen, Seasick (1996): Their best album, too. An even poppier Pixies (and Breeders!), for my money this is the most underrated alt-rock album of the 90s and the #1 album I want to see on Spotify.
Belle & Sebastian, Tiger Milk (1996): I still have love for this band, but in the ’90s and early ’00s, they were the best.
Oh, completely forgot that first Clash record. Listen to that. It rips.
I often want to live in films, but seldom ones this dour. But jazz clubs in the 50s, that’s my love language. Especially when it’s shot this beautifully, this dreamy. The faux-Paris streets at night are as out of this world as the soundtrack.
Round Midnight unfolds so nonchalantly, there’s almost no exposition. Things just happen. Sometimes they’re beautiful. Often they’re tragic.
Sometimes that’s one and the same.
Dexter Gordon is brilliant. Musically, obviously, and I’m glad he and Hancock got prizes for it. But with all due respect to Paul Newman, Gordon was robbed (I’d also take Hoskins in Mona Lisa over Newman, for the record). Incidentally, Newman was in the good but incomplete Paris Blues, a story that touches on the exiled black jazz musicians of Paris, something this movie greatly expands upon. Gordon wasn’t an actor, but he lived the part in real life. That doesn’t always work but when it is meant to inflect real life pain, it sure as shit does. He plays a composite of two real life musicians, but here he’s playing himself all the same.
Based on Francis Paudras’ memoir, we find the character of Francis outside the club on a rainy night, too broke to go inside but too in love with jazz and too indebted to Dale, whose music he fell in love with years earlier, not to huddle outside and take in what he can. They form a beautiful friendship, and while one could see Francis as someone suffering from a white savior complex, that would be dismissive. He sees Dale’s talent, but he also and more importantly he sees his pain. Unfortunately he cannot reconcile how one can exist with the other. He can’t understand how someone so brilliant can’t rub two nickels together, doesn’t understand addiction, and probably doesn’t understand the black struggle. He says on the first night he hears (not sees) Dale, that he played like a God. If our gods suffer, what does that mean for us?
I have walked and jogged and ran quite a bit since the pandemic began some 87 years ago, but this summer I decided to step it up (unfortunate pun intended).
100,000 steps per week, every week, for twenty weeks. Two million steps. Sounded like a reasonable goal. I didn’t think about my Fitbit dying, being sick, being injured, plans, writing, just not wanting to fucking go outside. Making up for those days though, really pushing myself to get to 100,000k, those days truly made it worth it and the experience and the accomplishment all the more rewarding. I ended up taking 2,038,018 steps, which ended up a bit under 1,000 miles. Which in retrospect, that should have been the goal. (I dumped the data on Facebook if you really wanna see/really just wanna be my friend).
“Every walk is a sort of crusade,” so said Thoreau.
“I would walk for six or eight hours a day, composing thoughts that I would later jot down on paper,” wrote Nietzsche, who by his thirties would walk closer to ten hours a day and write much of which he is known for. “Sit as little as possible; do not believe any idea that was not born in the open air and of free movement — in which the muscles do not also revel… Sitting still… is the real sin against the Holy Ghost.”
This summer on my walks, I also listened to Atomic Habits, a book that is billed as “an easy and proven way to build good habits and break bad ones.” Lots of great stuff in there: we imitate the people we envy. Only turn the TV on if you know what you want to watch. Never make a single aspect of your identity an overwhelming portion of who you are. Until you work as hard as those you admire or envy, don’t explain away their success as luck. And so on.
A big one was making habits more attractive by rewarding oneself or combining habits. “Doing the thing you need to do means doing the thing(s) you get to.”
So usually if I want to read the news, check my personal Instagram, I do it while walking. If I want to listen to a particular podcast, I do so by walking. I make work calls in the middle of a two hour hike.
I walk more than I run, but by combining habits I feel like I am getting more done, even when large chunks of time are dedicated to clearing my head, or thinking about my writing, or brainstorming for the printing company I co-own. Not all of these tasks are rewarding, but it allows me to multitask and often breaks up my walks into nice chunks, which itself is rewarding.
I much prefer the outdoors to the gym. Now that it’s winter in Michigan I imagine running through snow and chopping wood and basically just living my best Rocky 4.
I would recommend doing the same. Maybe listen to Atomic Habits while you do. If you happen to live in Michigan, Joseph Beyer just wrote about some great places to have a winter walk. And regardless, good luck and happy trails. Keep on truckin’.
Or, the last time I wrote about shows that I watched.
American Crime Story (Season 2): The Assassination of Gianni Versace. Tom Ripley true crime, loved it.
Atlanta (Seasons 3-4): I could use one more season of this show. Felt incomplete. Brilliant. Daring. Funny. But incomplete.
Beavis and Butt-Head (Season 9): I didn’t know how much I needed this.
Better Things (Season 5): Easily my favorite show on television at the moment. Absolutely gutted that it is over, even though it left on a high note. I could check in on this family from time to time forever. Always look on the bright side of life, indeed.
Bob’s Burgers (Seasons 10-12): Consistently funny. No pun intended, but comfort food.
Boy Meets World (Seasons 1-7): Still and forever unabashedly love this show.
Bunheads (Season 1): Easy to see why it was cancelled, but I found it enjoyable. Once it gets past its absurd initial premise, it seemed like it was gradually just turning into a Stars Hallow spin-off: Emily is more or less running Miss Patty’s; Sean Gunn’s character becomes more Kirk-like; we also see, among others, Gypsy, Digger, Paris, and Zack in an eyepatch.
Curb Your Enthusiasm (Seasons 10-11): Amusing, but could have ended after season seven.
I Think You Should Leave (Season 2): If you like this sketch, watch this show.
It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia (Season 15): Some funny moments, but its worst season, right?
Hacks (Season 1): Fuck yeah, Jean Smart!
Jeopardy: Love to watch this before bed. There have been some incredible stand-out players as of late. I’ve also watched some random old episodes on Pluto.TV. ’80s Jeopardy is amazing.
Kim’s Convenience (Season 5): It’s a shame this show didn’t get to properly end. I still recommend the show as a whole. It’s funny, lighthearted and charming, and sometimes that is all a show needs to be.
The Mandalorian / The Book of Boba Fett (Seasons 1-2; Season 1): As a whole, my favorite Star Wars thing since the original Star Wars things. Boba Fett dragged, though. Almost think this should have been re-edited as one show.
The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (Season 4): As funny as ever, still love the Lenny Bruce bits, and I am liking the B/C plots more (spin-off about Village Voice in the ’60s starring Chris, please), but it’s still the Midge and Susie show, as it should be.
Only Murders in the Building (Seasons 1-2): I love Martin Short and Steve Martin (and Selena Gomez!), but didn’t hold my interest. There could have been a 90-minute version of this that I likely would have thoroughly enjoyed.
Pen15 (Season 2): Maya and Anna are so committed to this. I really loved how the second half of season two branched out with Maya’s (real life) mother. They did something really special here. And for those that don’t know, Taylor Nichols, who Anna’s father, was in The Dinner Parting.
Rick and Morty (Seasons 1-5): Like most nerdy things, the fan base kinda ruins it, but this show is too funny and too in my wheelhouse not to love. And quite often, it is just as deep as they say it is.
The Righteous Gemstones (Seasons 1-2): Blasphemous dark comedy. I appreciate that they mock religious hypocrisy over religion, period.
Riverdale (Seasons 5-6): Not ashamed to say that I am an Archie Comics fan, but this show should have lost me long ago. Twin Peaks it ain’t.
Saturday Night Live (Seasons 46-47): The show is really embracing the weird. This is the most I’ve liked Sunday Afternoon Not Live in a long time (first few episodes of the new season have been clunkers but I am still holding out hope. The Jack Harlow episode had some great moments).
Single Drunk Female (Season 1): Felt very much like I was watching an ABC Family show about alcoholism. Loved the lead, though, and that they have a trans character that’s actually playing a role, and not just an identity, if that makes sense.
Stranger Things (Season 4): Had its moments, of course, but I am ready to be over this.
Squid Game (Season 1): Didn’t dislike it, but how Netflix manage these phenomenons out of thin air, I don’t think I will ever be able to comprehend.
Ted Lasso (Seasons 1-2): Ted and Roy Kent represent the yin and yang of who I want to be as a person.
Welcome to Wrexham (Season 1): So I like heartwarming shows about soccer, sue me.
Winning Time (Season 1): For how much this show had going for it (the actors, the premise), it too felt very incomplete to me.
I haven’t spoken much about this the last two years, but I am pleased to announce that The Dinner Parting, a movie I produced and co-wrote with my longtime collaborator J.W. Andrew, will make its debut at the Cinequest Film Festival. It will start virtually April 1st, and there will be an event in-person this August. My production company, Arts & Cults, is now on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram, if you would like to consider following.
“As the night wears on, stories turn ever more elaborate and the get-together goes way off its original three courses. The witty banter gets deliciously served up… in this black-and-white charmer of a throwback to films of yesteryear.” – Randy Myers, film critic for San Jose’s Mercury News.
Since it’s my birthday and I haven’t really said hi in quite some time, I figured I would answer the same questions The Bustle plans to inflict on celebrities for eternity.
What’s your coffee order?
No.
What are the saved weather locations on your phone?
East Lansing, various other Michigan cities I frequent, the cities I have visited the most (New York, Chicago, San Francisco) and Austin, a city I wish I visited the most.
What’s your sign?
I know it’s Pisces, but I admittedly don’t really know what that is supposed to say about me.
Favorite overused movie quote?
“I once thought I had mono for an entire year, It turned out I was just really bored.”
What’s one movie or TV show you’re currently obsessed with?
A Brighter Summer Day. Saw it last July and still think about it often. A Taiwanese coming-of-age set in the late ‘50s that is as much a T.E. Hinton as the War and Peace one character compares their own life to. A slightly misinterpreted Elvis lyric gives this film its (American) title, a mistake by youngsters in the film attempting to translate and understand one of their many obsessions with U.S. culture. It’s such a beautiful, sad, claustrophobic movie.
I don’t watch too many shows, but my two favorites, which I believe are both ending soon, are back on. The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel is just as funny as always. Midge and Susie still kill and the B/C plots seem a lot better as of late (or I am less of a curmudgeon than I was during the lockdown when I watched the first three seasons. That’s very likely, too). And Better Things is still just the best.
Who is your celeb idol?
It was Anthony Bourdain, and probably still is.
If you had to be on a reality TV show, what would it be?
I have a secret desire to be a picker, so if it would catapult my career...
Go-to karaoke song?
I would love to belt out an old, melancholy classic, but as such I cannot and therefore do not belt anything. Do like karaoke, though.
What’s something that’s inspiring you lately?
I finally picked up Maus last summer, and I (finally) started reading after this bullshit. I love that said bullshit brought more attention to this book and finally pushed me into reading it. I love the telling of such an incredible story in a unique way. Makes me want to learn more about the Holocaust. I am not jewish but it makes me want to learn more about my grandparents, about my mother, my and my father. I want to read more books, read more comic books, write comic books, and just write in general.
Probably doesn’t get much more inspiring than that.
What is something you would want people to say about you?
That I always did my best.
“I’m not familiar with the scene of skateboarding. At the same time, I had the feeling, yes, that’s kind of my people… You have to accept trial and error…”
You’re coming off the holidays. It’s cold outside. It’s snowing. Not suggesting be outright lazy for a month, but lean into the new year. You’re much more likely to set goals and keep them if you formulate a game plan.
I keep a planner and in the back pages run monthly tasks that I use as a reference as I fill in my “free time” week to week. This year I decided to be realistic and, outside of a few time-sensitive tasks, combine my “to-do” list for January and February.
I know Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow today and that means six more weeks of 2020. But if you’ve seen Groundhog Day, you know the final act is when Bill Murray decides to become the man he wants to be.
“He gets to know everybody in the town,” writes Austin Kleon. “He sees what problems there are in the town to solve, and how he can use his powers to help… He also throws himself into his work: he crafts a super eloquent speech for Punxsutawney Phil, which he presumably gives every day. He learns French. He learns how to play the piano. He learns how to sculpt ice. And it’s when he finally masters these things, when he’s turned himself into a person worth loving, it’s then that Rita notices him, and they live happily ever after. Phil learns, as Hugh Macleod says in his book Ignore Everybody, ‘The best way to get approval is to not need it.'”
If you are down on yourself for not getting shit done during the lockdown, or surprised life hasn’t gotten magically better because it is no longer 2020, or embarrassed that you have yet to start your resolutions (or never set any in the first place), I will just say this: Fuck that.
