So nice, I went and turned 21 twice. Spent the birthday with Adri in Detroit, getting prayer beads from Dabls, strolling thru Heidelberg, getting drinks with DJ Ladylike at Spot Lite, and stopping by my favorite tiki spot Mutiny before getting grooves on at Boogie Fever.
Pretty close to a perfect day.
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!)
Got eight hours sleep. Sent the first newsletter of 2024 and spent my morning at the club.
Played basketball, soundtracked by Funkier Than a Mosquito’s Tweeter radio on Spotify. Ran for a bit, swam for a bit longer than I ran, then ended the trip in the hot tub and sauna.
Went grocery shopping and hit 10,000 steps by 1pm, before eating.
Picked up Chinese and went home to spend the rest of day under blankets and watching movies with Eleanor Rigby.
Will likely end the evening with Jeopardy! and some reading.
Also need to return Miss Albert’s phone call.
It’s a holiday so grading today on a curve: A.
Fortune from said Chinese: YOU ARE HEADING IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION.”
I had a lot of these toys so this is not me complaining, but one of my funniest Christmas memories is my stepmom handing me one of these and telling me to circle everything I wanted for Christmas. I went to town, greedily circling every item imaginable. That holiday morning, I believe I received exactly zero of the things I had circled. In retrospect, she was getting me to settle down and be quiet for a bit, which, yah, totally understand.
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 like the song, but might be biased.
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.
Before the Internet, or at least any Internet I knew of, Siskel & Ebert was my best resource for what was coming out. By the time I hit the age where I wasn’t supposed to be seeing certain things but wanted to, those two were a gateway drug. Very few things sounded more interesting to my just-under-teenage brain than Clerks and Pulp Fiction.
I treated their year end lists like gospel. By my freshmen year of high school I walked around with and read and re-read and basically treated Book of Film the same.
For years, when I watched something, I would end up looking up his reviews to see what he thought. While I often disagreed with him, I was always interested and loved discovering films via his writing. I wonder now what he would have thought about movies that have come out since he left us. I might wonder that forever.
As Steven Hyden wrote when he passed:
“If the sum total of all the people affected by the life and career of Roger Ebert could somehow be quantified– his fellow writers were just a tiny sliver of a large and loyal readership, mind you– we might begin the process of wrapping our arms around the legacy of perhaps the most celebrated film critic who ever lived. In lieu of that, let’s just say: It’s a whole hell of a lot of people.“
I recommend looking through his work, particularly his “Great Movies” archive. Love this quote of his: “”Every great film should seem new every time you see it.”
There is also his final “top ten” list and this list of underrated films he loved, including the Up documentary series, about which he wrote:
“No other art form can capture so well the look in an eye, the feeling in an expression, the thoughts that go unspoken between the words. To look at these films, as I have every seven years, is to meditate on the astonishing fact that man is the only animal that knows it lives in time.”
From two Letters Live events, great letters filled with great advice from one of the twentieth century’s best minds.
Key takeaways:
Reduce and stabilize your population.
Stop poisoning the air, the water, and the topsoil.
Stop preparing for war and start dealing with your real problems.
Teach your kids, and yourselves, too, while you’re at it, how to inhabit a small planet without helping to kill it.
Stop thinking science can fix anything if you give it a trillion dollars.
Stop thinking your grandchildren will be OK no matter how wasteful or destructive you may be, since they can go to a nice new planet on a spaceship. That is really mean, and stupid.
And so on. Or else.
And for your own personal growth:
“Practice any art… no matter how well or badly, not to get money or fame, but to experience becoming. To find out what’s inside you. To make your soul grow… Do art for the rest of your lives.”
(Via Open Culture)
Apparently this list is on the back cover of A Guide for the Perplexed. Need to pick this up ASAP.
(Via Kottke)
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.
Since debuting on the film festival circuit, we’ve had some positive feedback on Letterboxd and a nice local blurb when we hit the Bay Area (not to mention winning the audience award for Best Picture at a Film Fest in Saulte St. Marie).
Also, not every day or even every decade I get referred to as brilliant:
“The Dinner Parting works thanks to a brilliant script by Luke Allen Hackney and director J.W. Andrew. Many writers go wrong because they aim for wacky and write weird dialogue for its own sake. Yes, this does get wacky, but a lie is rarely wasted. Like a never-ending improv sketch, every bit of information offered must be accepted as truth by our leads and cannot be denied. Hackney and Andrew then escalate the hell out of everything for the sake of rivalry, and when the bubble bursts, there’s an escape plan to take this story to another level.
The Dinner Parting is a well-executed comedy, which quite frankly is almost impossible to do in indie film. Yes, the film is mostly talking, but it’s hilarious and a clever take on a well-worn comedy trope.”
Full review here.
A friend has been going through what they are confident can be defined as a “midlife crisis.” I too have been thinking about a lot of the “big picture” stuff the last year or two, and have been trying to get better at living life. I do a lot of reading, offline and on, and a site always full of aspirational nuggets of wisdom at Maria Popova’s Marginalian. Took me over five months to get to this blog entry, but there is a lot worth taking in. She writes in her introduction:
“If we abide by the common definition of philosophy as the love of wisdom, and if Montaigne was right — he was — that philosophy is the art of learning to die, then living wisely is the art of learning how you will wish to have lived. A kind of resolution in reverse.”
I believe it’s all worth reading, but I really like the quote from philosopher, mathematician, historian, and Nobel laureate Bertrand Russell on broadening your life as it grows shorter:
“Make your interests gradually wider and more impersonal, until bit by bit the walls of the ego recede, and your life becomes increasingly merged in the universal life. An individual human existence should be like a river — small at first, narrowly contained within its banks, and rushing passionately past rocks and over waterfalls. Gradually the river grows wider, the banks recede, the waters flow more quietly, and in the end, without any visible break, they become merged in the sea, and painlessly lose their individual being.”
Also really like this thought on kindness from Tolstoy:
“The kinder and the more thoughtful a person is, the more kindness he can find in other people. Kindness enriches our life; with kindness mysterious things become clear, difficult things become easy, and dull things become cheerful.”
Again, it’s all worth reading and pandering, but I will end with this quote from Roman Stoic Senaca before getting to my final point:
“There are more things … likely to frighten us than there are to crush us; we suffer more often in imagination than in reality.”
“Midlife Crisis” sounds terrifying, but I think it’s the word “crisis” that scares us. Two definitions of the word, however, can give one hope:
A crisis does not have to be bad.
I spent all of the Sunday after Thanksgiving watching Get Back, arguably not the most productive way to spend a day. But The Beatles’ productivity stuck with me, months and months later.
Unsurprising, their staggering output is undeniable proof of just how productive they were in such a short period of time. Former journalist Tom Whitwell had similar thoughts, outlining ten lessons from the film. It’s a good read – the first is something I have had to deal with and could also accuse myself of in the past:
The first rule of improvisation (and brainstorming) is “yes… and.” When someone suggests an idea, plays a note, says a line, you accept it completely, then build on it. That’s how improvisational comedy or music flows. The moment someone says ‘no,’ the flow is broken. It’s part of deferring judgement, where you strictly separate idea generation from idea selection.
As they slog through Don’t Let Me Down, George breaks the spell. Instead of building and accepting he leaps to judgement, saying “I think it’s awful.” Immediately, John and Paul lay down the rules: “Well, have you got anything? “You’ve gotta come up with something better.”
(Via Kottke)
A small pop-up restaurant in Tokyo where “no one knows if what you ordered will come out OK.”
It is aptly named The Restaurant of Mistaken Orders, and all of the servers taking those orders have dementia. Founded by former news organizer Shiro Oguni, after he stumbled upon Yukio Wada’s group home for dementia care. From an interview with Oguni:
“We want to have a place where everyone thinks, ‘Well, it’s OK if there was a mistake,’ everyone there just accepts the mistake, and they all laugh about it and have fun… At first I had an image in my head of dementia being a little scary, one of aimlessly wandering about and of abusive language. But when I visited, it was a cozy place and completely different than I imagined. Wada thought first that before dementia, everyone is a person. So even if they have dementia they can cook and clean and do what they can by themselves. The job of the care home should be to support their ability to live their own lives until the very end. This group home was the implementation of that idea.”
He recalls lunch time on the day he did that report. He ordered a hamburger steak, but was served gyoza (pot stickers) instead. “I was surprised and thought, ‘the only thing that’s right about this is the ground meat.’ But I was the only one there that was about to point that out.”
No one among the elderly residents and the care workers said a word about it, and they were eating the gyoza with gusto. “Seeing this, I got so embarrassed. I wanted to correct a mistake. But if everyone takes it in in the moment, then it ceases to be a mistake.”
(Via MetaFilter)
