Self-Aggrandizement: October 2005 Archives

Yes, We Still Love our Work
Filed October 31, 2005 1:54 PM.

Though I'm sure you're sick to death of hearing about it already, a few more points on I Love Your Work:

• While it's already been playing in theaters for a few weeks, the trailer for ILYW is now online.

• If you live in Los Angeles, or somewhere nearby, the film opens there this Friday. Attendance that first weekend is crucial to the future life of the film, so please, please, go check it out. And bring friends. Or enemies. Or homeless people you find loitering outside. Whatever.

• If you live in New York, the film opens here on December 2nd. It got pushed back both to secure better screens and to run more squarely in the middle of the 'winter push'. It's a great vote of confidence from THINK, and we're hoping to prove the choice right by showing up, en masse, that weekend ourselves. The night of 12/2, we'll also be holding some sort of release party, mostly so, like Gilbert and Sullivan, we can be drunk enough to enjoy the opening night ourselves.

• If you live anywhere else, add ILYW to your Netflix queue. It won't cost you anything, but it will help demonstrate interest in the film. Plus, no matter where you live, you'll get to actually watch the movie.

That's that.

Also, spookiest of Halloween wishes. This evening, like in years past, I'll be playing 1940's jazz with an all-lesbian (or, rather, all but me) big band at a benefit concert for The Theater for a New City. Life in New York is never dull.

Suiting Up
Filed October 29, 2005 5:16 PM.

Challenge: Find costume in less than three hours for a "90's Scandals" costume party.

Solution: One old pair of ice skates from under the bed, one curly blond wig and ballerina costume from Ricky's Costume Shop around the corner, one junior-size Louisville Slugger baseball bat borrowed from the kids who live next door.

Voila, Tonya Harding.

[Pictures, if possible, to follow.]

Things Fall Apart
Filed October 28, 2005 5:34 PM.

In the past few days, my physical belongings have been self-destructing at an alarming pace. The right earbud on my Shure E4c's stopped playing. The screen on my Treo 600 suddenly developed rainbow stripes, and ceased responding to touch. And then, this morning, with an alarming thud, the keyboard drawer fell clean off of my desk.

Which, in short, has left me more than a bit paranoid: avoiding walking under light fixture or sitting too close to my heavy bookshelf. I may not have a clue what's about to come down next, but I'll be damned if it takes me with it.

Smooth
Filed October 26, 2005 4:44 PM.

When we were growing up, my brother and I used to joke that, if my father were to die, we would have him made into a fireplace-front rug.

Which is to say, he's fairly hairy. Apparently, however, that fact eluded him for some time. Famously, shortly after he and my mother were married in their early twenties, when he was already verging on gorilla, the two of them went to Jones Beach with my mother's sister. As a middle-aged man walked by, my father commented, 'you know what I think is really gross? Back hair.' Which led the two ladies to share concerned glances, implying the question, "which one of us has to tell him?"

This seminal story stuck with me for at least two reasons: first, it explicated the dangers of unnoticed back hair, and second, it indicated that, genetically, if I was at risk of looking like Teen Wolf myself, it would likely already have kicked in.

By now, having made it all the way to 26, I think I may finally be in the clear. But, heeding the other lesson of that family story, about once a week, I adjust the mirrored doors of my bathroom cabinets so that one faces the other, allowing me to double-check.

And, if I ever were to find a villous matting, I know my younger brother would come through. Still in his perilous early twenties, he keeps an electrolysist on speed-dial. Just in case.

They Also Love Our Work
Filed October 25, 2005 5:08 PM.

Yesterday, shortly after blogging about ILYW's imminent release, I downloaded the podcast of KCRW's The Business, a great and highly popular weekly radio show about the film industry.

Without looking at the title, I fired up the episode, and went about my work.

Five minutes later, I froze. There was I Love Your Work's director, Adam Goldberg, talking about the film, about the protracted two-year mess of actually getting it released.

And while, at first, I was mainly concerned about the potential for public embarrassment at the ears of all of Hollywood, though Adam talked extended smack about the other two companies involved, we received only passing, positive mention.

As the segment ended, however, the surreality of it all started to sink in. I walked through the rest of the afternoon, reeling at the strangeness of NPR dropping a personally-tailored episode of This is Your Life onto my hard drive.

I (Finally) Love Your Work
Filed October 24, 2005 11:45 AM.

Though it's taken two years (and slogging through a slew of sordid misadventures), I Love Your Work is finally hitting theaters: Los Angeles on November 4th, New York on November 11th.

As the film's success in those two cities will determine how much further things expand, I will love forever any readers who take time out of their busy schedules to go check it out. More details on specific theaters, etc., as they emerge.

Guy Get-Ups
Filed October 20, 2005 11:51 AM.

With Halloween just around the corner, my brother helpfully shared three costume ideas for creatively challenged yet lecherous and politically incorrect male youths (i.e. his Fraternity brothers); I present them for anyone who doesn't similarly live in Denver, and can therefore shamelessly rip off his suggestions:

Plastic Surgeon: Buy, borrow or steal a set of medical scrubs. Scrawl 'free breast exams' on a piece of cardboard.
God's Gift to Women: wrap a bow and ribbon around your neck.
Proselytizing Mormon: Dress in a dark suit, white shirt and conservative tie. Buy a copy of the Book of Mormon. Knock on people's doors, but instead of saying 'trick or treat', ask if they'd have time to talk about a 'book that's really changed your life'.

Quick Movie Reviews
Filed October 19, 2005 3:08 PM.

Very good.

Very not.

Consumer Whore Week: Wet Wipes
Filed October 14, 2005 8:26 AM.

[Warning: this entry involves poop.]

Though once the sole province of young diaper-wearers, wet wipes have now crossed over to the adult mainstream, with companies like Charmin and Cottonelle pushing toilet-paper-sized, flushable, adult-targeted wipes.

Obviously, as a guy, my first reaction to this was extended, derisive laughter. But, urged on by a wet-wipe-evangelizing female friend, I took the standard wet-wipe challenge: wipe thoroughly with regular toilet paper, then go back for a wet-wipe pass.

The skid mark so aptly demonstrates how much you've been (quite literally) missing in the past, you'll likely end up, like me, an instant convert.

Intervention
Filed October 14, 2005 8:05 AM.

This is what you get for hiring smart-asses:

From: Rob Barnum
Subject: Intervention

Josh-

Our relationship takes on many forms: business partners, CrossFit devotees, dot com escapees, an Old Testament microcosm, co-blimp pilots, bloggers, friends…you get the idea.

But, my good chap, when you blog about company business and then accidentally link to some unknown weblog (www.blure.com?) rather than our animation partner, it makes us all look bad. From both a blog-brotherhood standpoint as well as a company.

Since today is a day of prayer, think about it.

You really let us down.

Rob

L'hitpalel
Filed October 13, 2005 5:59 PM.

A quick break today from the week of consumerism, as I celebrated Yom Kippur, the Jewish holiday usually translated as the Day of Atonement.

Really, though, any Jewish day of prayer is atonement at some level: the Hebrew verb 'to pray', l'hitpalel, literally means "to judge or examine onself".

Today, though, on this most important of holidays, I took that self-examination more seriously than I've ever done before. Within the last year, I've increasingly become clear on the things I don't like about myself, the habits and ideas that I'd like to change. Most of them center around becoming consistently and thoroughly transparent, around becoming more honest in dealing with myself and really relating to others rather than trying to control them in some way, to get some result.

After a solid day of reading and thinking, I'm at the point where, in my own mind, these ideas are finally beginning to coalesce. But I don't think I can yet capture them well enough to put them into words, much less into written ones that stand on their digital own.

So, consider this a bookmark on the thought; I'll certainly be writing about it more in the not-too-distant future. Until then, I'll be regularly, rigorously, working it all through in my overcrowded head.

Consumer Whore Week: The Hip Flask
Filed October 12, 2005 3:10 PM.

Like the three-martini lunch, the hip flask has, sadly, fallen out of favor in these sober times. And while, if tastelessly displayed, a flask can say 'I'm an alcoholic, but an old money alcoholic', it can also be immensely practical.

For struggling artist types in a city like New York, where bar-owners have the gumption to charge $10 for drinks mixed from Popov vodka, a flask can yield far better drinking at a vastly reduced price. Further, topping off a bar-ordered coke with flasked rum, rather than (correctly) making you look like a cheap bastard, instead gives a hint of luxurious élan paired with a mischievous streak of devil-may-care.

It's outside of bars where flasks really shine, because careless designers the world over seem to have forgotten to install wet bars on commuter trains, in taxi cabs, seat-back in opera houses, or in the bathroom of your girlfriend's puritanical parents.

A few further tips: when buying a flask, steer clear of anything 'clever', decorated, or made from a material other than silver, pewter, stainless steel or leather-bound glass. Also feel free to give flasks liberally as gifts - men love them for their practicality, women for the Bond girl lifestyle they seem to imply. In either case, monogramming is a nice touch.

And, finally, as wisely observed by Tesauro & Mollod in The Modern Gentleman, "carry a flask in a breast or coat pocket; if this in not possible, you are underdressed for flasking."

Pick one up, and be prepared, wherever you happen to be, when dipsomania next hits.

Consumer Whore Week: Shure e2c and e4c
Filed October 11, 2005 3:20 PM.

Dear iPod Owners:

You are idiots. Or, at least 95% of you are. Because 95% of you are still using those little white freebie earbuds that Apple tosses in the box.

And those little white freebie earbuds suck monkey.

I won't plug the Etymotic ER-4's again here; if you'd appreciate them, you probably already own a pair.

Instead, you need something a bit more practical. Something you can haul to the gym, ride with on the subway. Something that seals out the whir of a treadmill or the screech of train tracks. Something sturdy, small, and cheap enough not to break the bank.

And, most importantly, something that sounds so good you'll kick yourself for every day you wasted listening to those little white freebie monkey-suckers Apple stuck you with.

In short, you want a pair of Shure earbuds.

The cheaper choice is their e2c, which goes for as little as $70 street.

Or, forgo the extra iPod case, armband, dock and car charger on your wish list, using the saved $100 to bump up to the Shute e4c's, which CNET's seasoned reviewers called "simply the best in-ear headphones we've ever heard."

Either way, pick up a pair, and experience actually hearing your music, like it was meant to be heard, for the very first time.

Consumer Whore Week: Mr. Clean Magic Eraser
Filed October 10, 2005 11:36 PM.

Arthur C. Clarke once observed that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic; Mr. Clean's Magic Eraser is a case in point.

Because, even as a dyed-in-the-wool tech dork, I have absolutely no clue why the Magic Eraser works. All I know is, holy crap, it does.

About the size of decks of cards, these white squishy squares don't inspire much confidence out of the box; I wouldn't even have given them a try, had a free sample not recently appeared in my mailbox.

But, as most of my family and friends can attest, I've grown increasingly anal about keeping my house scoured clean. After nearly a year in my current apartment, wear and tear had begun to show in ways that, I assumed, were only arduously reparable: dark streaks left from heavy objects banged up against white walls or dragged across wood floors; scratches in the porcelain of the bathtub and kitchen sink.

All of them resisted a parade of home-cleaning products, from Fantastik and Formula 409 to Scrubbing Bubbles and Orange Glo. None were a match for Mr. Clean and his magic erasing.

Despite it's super powers, the Magic Eraser is actually one of the easiest cleaning products I've ever used: simply rinse it in water, squeeze out the excess, then rub away any stain on pretty much anything at all. No additional cleaning agent, no preparation, just rub.

Why does it work? Is it also secretly eating away layers of my skin in the process? I don't know, and I don't care. I'm not one to look gift horses in the mouth, or gift sponges in the whatever is metaphorically equivalent to a mouth on a sponge.

These things are solid gold, though far cheaper ounce-for-ounce. Pick up a two-pack for $2.50, and observe your smile shining back off any previously crud-marred surface.

And how!
Filed October 10, 2005 10:51 PM.

After another, rather unexpected, trip out West - to lock Cyan's partnership with animation studio Blur for an indie CG film - I'm back in NYC. And, to keep me on a more regular blogging schedule, I'm kicking off Consumer Whore Week, wherein, over the next seven days, I spill the beans on a number of items you'll shortly realize you can't possibly live without.

Gentlemen, start your checkbooks.

Sweater Weather
Filed October 3, 2005 6:35 PM.

Normally, trips out to the Bay Area leave me with a severe case of climate chagrin. With New York drippingly humid, or frigidly icicled, Palo Alto weather mocks me with its comparative moderation.

But, this time of year, for a month (or, in good years, two), New York weather miraculously pulls ahead of Palo Alto's, passes nearly through perfection.

Right now, back in NYC, leaves are turning, the air is cooling to a crisp, bright edge, a box full of wool knits waits to be unpacked from closet-top summer storage. And I can't wait to head home.

Happy Jew Year
Filed October 3, 2005 6:10 PM.

I've left NYC, yet again, hitting San Francisco to celebrate Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, with my parents, before heading down to Los Angeles for a few days of meetings.

For all of you reading along, Jewish or not: l'shana tova u'metuka - to a good and sweet year!

Yes, We Still Love our Work Filed October 31, 2005 1:54 PM.

Suiting Up Filed October 29, 2005 5:16 PM.

Things Fall Apart Filed October 28, 2005 5:34 PM.

Smooth Filed October 26, 2005 4:44 PM.

They Also Love Our Work Filed October 25, 2005 5:08 PM.

I (Finally) Love Your Work Filed October 24, 2005 11:45 AM.

Guy Get-Ups Filed October 20, 2005 11:51 AM.

Quick Movie Reviews Filed October 19, 2005 3:08 PM.

Consumer Whore Week: Wet Wipes Filed October 14, 2005 8:26 AM.

Intervention Filed October 14, 2005 8:05 AM.

L'hitpalel Filed October 13, 2005 5:59 PM.

Consumer Whore Week: The Hip Flask Filed October 12, 2005 3:10 PM.

Consumer Whore Week: Shure e2c and e4c Filed October 11, 2005 3:20 PM.

Consumer Whore Week: Mr. Clean Magic Eraser Filed October 10, 2005 11:36 PM.

And how! Filed October 10, 2005 10:51 PM.

Sweater Weather Filed October 3, 2005 6:35 PM.

Happy Jew Year Filed October 3, 2005 6:10 PM.