Puddles of My Mad Men: "Lady Lazarus"

Once again, Matt Domino shills his weekly "Mad Men" column at the Montreal Review as well as give a brief state of Puddles address.

Top 20 Friendships of All-Time Part 1

One of the best parts about reading this blog is observing and enjoying the lists that I post from time to time. One of the other great parts about reading this blog is intently following my long, romantic and poignant posts on friendship, which is probably the virtue I have sought to define for much of the twenty-five years I have been alive. I’ve quoted Michael Chabon before, but his quote from The Mysteries of Pittsburgh that it is friendship and not love that truly eludes us is probably one of the most true statements that has ever been written. One could write for hours about what it means to be a good friend to another person. What a good male friendship consists of or what a great female friendship consists of. And even more hours could be spent analyzing male and female friendships or whether the relationship between men and women is ever truly a friendship. There are layers upon layers and gestures upon gestures that lead us to great and meaningful discoveries about who we are as people and what we value in others. We can make great virtues out of our friendships and drive our friends crazy by holding them to high standards, or we can place little value on friendship and sleep with our best friend’s girlfriend. And even then, there is plenty of grey area. It is a topic I will spend the rest of my life trying to define.

However, in the meantime I’ve decided to probe history, movies, TV, music and literature in order to find the Top 20 Friendships of all-time. This list is so in depth and eloquent that we’re breaking it up into two parts. Believe me, that’s definitely the reason we’re splitting it up and not because I had to fill in some space this week.

So, without further ado, here is my list of the Top 20 Friendships of All-Time:

20. Dawson Leary and Joey Potter – I think that this ranking will immediately have some dissenters due to the fact that these two characters have a spot in any twenty-something’s heart. Dawson Leary and Joey Potter were introduced to us in 1997 on the WB and for those of us in our early to mid teens were directly influenced by the relationship between Dawson and Joey. She was the pretty tomboy who snuck into his window at night to talk about life. He was the film geek who just couldn’t see how beautiful she actually was and that he loved her. There was a classic element of tragedy to their friendship and that tragedy was called love. The fact that Dawson romantically loved Joey is actually what drops them down on this list. Sure they had a star-crossed romance that eventually ended up with them not being together. But over that time you can’t overlook that these friends slept together, which somehow disqualifies them from the mystic connection that an actual friendship is. With romance, you can pin the sensation down from time to time and express love, passion or romance in sex. Friendship is only briefly defined by obscure actions, nonchalant conversation and beer that slowly fades away. Some may believe in sex being possible between friends (e.g. the Natalie Portman fuck-buddy movie) but I’m more of a skeptic. Sorry Joey and Dawson, maybe you should have stuck to talking shop about Spielberg.

19. John Adams and Thomas Jefferson – This has become one of the most underrated friendships of all time. These guys were once bitter political rivals in the early days of this country. They both lived in the shadow of George Washington and were trying to form the country in line with their own strong visions. It was a classic story of fame and politics getting between two friends. Adams and Jefferson were originally close during the days of the Revolutionary War, even setting some Lennon/McCartney precedents by penning the “Declaration of Independence” together. However, the growing interests of this country both home and abroad tore them apart. The greatest betrayal may have been Adams’ appointment of the “Midnight Judges” after he lost the 1800 election to Jefferson in an attempt to spoil Jefferson’s presidency by putting some of his men in the Supreme Court right before his term was up. Jefferson was able to pass legislation to remove these men from office and slowly their friendship resumed as the bright candles of the White House faded from each of their eyes. They started an epic letter correspondence (like two other friends who will appear on this list) until the day they died—which was the same day. On his deathbed, Adams famously uttered, “Thomas Jefferson survives.” However, before the Internet and Twitter there was no way he could have known that his friend had already died a few hours earlier. Nothing says friendship more than the belief that no matter how you fail or no matter if your time is up, you are thinking about how your buddy is continuing on.

18. Monica Geller/Rachel Green/ Phoebe Buffay – This list would be not be complete with out an entry from the legendary sitcom Friends, which was probably one of the most iconic cultural items of the entire decade of the 1990’s. Some would say that Joey and Chandler were the better “friends” on the show, but I have to give it to the girls. Friends as a show was not believable in the slightest, but it seemed like the fights between Monica and Rachel were more believable as friends. Now, Phoebe generally didn’t have storylines involving her fighting with Monica or Rachel, but she was definitely a good source of comic relief to ease the tension when there was a fight. And of course she had her feelings hurt from time to time as well. We’ve all seen the show—these women had some good times and some bad times. They fought with each other and slept with men that the other liked. They all lived in New York in the same apartment and waited a long time to have kids in non-traditional ways. Wait a second; maybe the show was more realistic than I thought.

17. Han Solo and Chewbacca – This might be the most famous interstellar friendship of all time. Spock and Captain Kirk were too aloof. Now, friends will be aloof, but their relationship was different, it felt too professional. Obi wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker had more of an older brother/younger brother dynamic and Luke and Han had a sort of romantic rival dynamic that was eventually settled when it was revealed that Leia was Luke’s sister. Han and Chewy, now that was a friendship. From the moment we meet them in A New Hope, we get a sense of their back-story, that this galactic swashbuckler and his large hairy friend had all kinds of adventures together and truly cared about each other. You can picture Han and Chewy behind the wheel of the Millennium Falcon on some long space startrip across a galaxy far, far away, smoking cigarettes and listening to the Replacebots and just idly talking and roaring about how strange life can be and how just the simple good looks of a spacewoman can ease their aching hearts. If you don’t think that these were the two of the greatest friends of all time, then you are racist and need to look at yourself in the mirror.

16. Gertrude Stein and Ernest Hemingway - "That is what you are. That's what you all are...All of you young people who served in the war. You are a lost generation." That is the concluding line of a story about a mechanic that Gertrude Stein told to Ernest Hemingway, which inspired his inscription for The Sun Also Rises. Their friendship was a short but powerful friendship. Stein introduced Hemingway to bullfighting, encouraged him to give up journalism and embrace fiction and even helped edit some of his earliest work. Stein was like a mother figure to Hemingway, which is a friendship that is not often discussed in the world and literature: mother as friend to son. Now, of course there were Oedipal undertones as Hemingway has admitted that he wanted to sleep with Stein because of the fact that she reminded him of his mother, but they never did (unlike Dawson and Joey). They had a terrible falling out in 1926 that cut their friendship short. But they had already helped each other in many ways in their art, in their identity as Americans abroad and in life.

15. Jerry Seinfeld and George Costanza – Some people may complain about this ranking, however, I was conflicted putting these two in even this slot. My main issue with the Seinfeld/Costanza friendship was this elemental fact—were they even friends? Think about it: one of the fundamental traits of the characters of Seinfeld was the fact that they all took some level of pleasure in the misfortune of others, including their own “friends.” That fact made the show realistic, because there is an element of truth in the fact of wanting to see the misfortune of others. Even in groups of friends, we laugh when a friend trips or “eats it.” We love to see slapstick happen to the people we like spending time with; it is one of the strangest phenomena in life. So, when George got into a mess, who was the first to laugh most of the time? Jerry. And vice versa. Now, that still doesn’t overlook the fact that these two grew up together and that Jerry let George spend so much time at his apartment venting about all his problems, lies and insecurities. Now, that is the mark of a true friend: listening and generosity. People may claim that Elaine and Jerry had the better friendship, but their friendship was based on romance and then the resulting post-relationship sexual tension, which is a rare occurrence. However, in my mind the non-sexual tension trumps a sexual-tension related friendship. Any woman that I have sexual tension with I usually don’t call my friend because I’d be thinking about sex more often than our friendship. If I have sexual tension with a girl, I tend to call her “this girl I know,” rather than “my friend.” To me, that’s just being honest with myself because I never think about sleeping with any of my friends.

14. Rory Gilmore and Lane Kim – Another rule of this list is that it does not include the “family friendships.” Obviously Rory Gilmore and Lorelai Gilmore as “friends” would be in the top five of any “Top Friendships” lists; that fact is undeniable. But you still have to give credit to the other anchor in Rory Gilmore’s life, the indefatigable Lane Kim. Lane is the epitome of a rock scholar. When Lane talks shop to Rory you learn something every time. Due to her strict Korean upbringing she even had to install a secret compartment in the floor of her room to store all of her records. Those were records she shared with Rory so she could outsmart any snobby girl or guy at Chilton or Yale. Also, Rory needed to know some deep cuts to keep up her witty banter with Jess outside of Luke’s Diner or by the gas station. This friendship wasn’t a one-way street either. Rory helped Lane with all of her schemes to sneak out of the house or to go to a party to meet her bandmate and boyfriend Dave. Rory also convinced Lorelai to let Lane’s band practice in their garage. Lane and Rory’s friendship endured Rory going to a different high school and then going away to college. Speaking as a person who has retained friendships with some people for nearly fifteen years, I can safely say that maintaining a close friendship over the passing of years and circumstances is no joke. We could delve into the different nuances of a “maintained friendship,” but lets just settle on the fact that Lane Kim and Rory Gilmore were some of the best friends to come out of Star’s Hollow, Connecticut.

13. Jay Gatsby and Nick Carraway – One of the most mythic and ambiguous friendships in history, the relationship between Nick Carraway and Jay Gatsby has influenced me perhaps more than any other in fiction, history or real life. It was the friendship with Jay Gatsby that caused Nick to utter the famous line that he wanted “no more privileged glimpses into the hearts of men,” which is how most male friends and even female friends feel from time to time when confronted with the enormity of what being a friend means. “No, no more. I can’t have any more empathy.” It might just be the melancholy yet crisp nature of the prose or of the tragedy of the story itself, but the relationship between Nick and Gatsby just seems to mean so much. Gatsby represents a romantic way of looking at the world, while Nick retains some sort of pragmatism and yet finds the appeal in Gatsby’s way of seeing the world. Nick sees some value in the kindness and attention that Gatsby can display with a smile or an “old sport.” And Nick ultimately sees how the world will use up a man with all of Gatbsy’s traits and just move onto the next house lit up with money and the glow of champagne. Nick is not able to save Gatsby, but he does relay one heartfelt compliment to him, by stating that he’s better than the rest of their group near the end of the novel. We never see things from Gatsby’s perspective, but in real life, sometimes its just that one comment, that one compliment from a friend that can make all the difference—that one phrase that illuminates the relationship in a new way.

12. Sancho Panza and Don Quixote – This friendship has perhaps been overlooked due to the fact that it is a well-established tenet of western literature (i.e. no one reads Don Quixote anymore), but it is one of the most iconic. You have the hero (even if he is comedic) and his trusty sidekick. The sidekick supports him on his foolish whims because he actually doesn’t know better himself and even plays a joke on the hero at one point because he can’t resist (isn’t this how most guys spend most of their 20’s?). The two go on an epic journey together, which was one of the earliest and most well-known “road trips” along with The Odyssey and Pilgrim’s Progress. The friendship between Sancho Panza and Don Quixote suffers because they are embedded in our consciousness and culture in ways that we have forgotten. However, all you need to know is that Sancho Panza was by Quixote’s side when he thought he couldn’t go on anymore.

11. Bob Uecker and Norm MacDonald – I’ll admit that this friendship gets such a high ranking because of its seemingly random nature and also because I love both of these guys independently that finding out they were weird cross-generational friends was just an added bonus.  Their friendship can basically be summed up in this story told by Norm MacDonald in a vintage Letterman moment (at this point Letterman has that same “I don’t care vibe” that MacDonald does, though Norm is much warmer and less curmudgeonly in his vibe).  The friendship between Uecker and MacDonald covers that strange and great situation where you have an old guy who is friends with a middle-aged guy because they share some kind of ancient secret of men.  Norm MacDonald and Bob Uecker just seem like two guys. It’s as simple as that. One has made a career out of a great announcing voice and a love for baseball and just happens to be a funny guy; the other on his love of comedy and a unique delivery. They are both just men in the most non-testosterone way possible.  They remind me of beer and putting on a worn navy blue hat. There is something to be said for that.

Click here to continue to Part 2.

Theoharides On Bridesmaids

Welcome to Wednesday, my Puddlers. Its been a rainy week here in New York, so that means there are plenty of actual, literal puddles to jump on, slide around in and pour down your pants. However, rain or shine there will always be Puddles of Myself to enjoy. 

I hope you all enjoyed the Fleet Foxes review from yesterday. Next week we will have the Top 20 Friendships of All-Time as well as our regular columnists Alex Theoharides and Mark Jack. I am still accepting any guest submissions to feature so please feel free to e-mail me at any time.

I just want to mention three links today. You may have noticed the tag-line on the page header giving a shout out to Sea Bean Goods and Real Sorbet. These are two culinary endeavors undertaken by great friends of mine and recommend that you throw your full support behind both. You can find links on the sidebar to the right.  Also, please check out Sam Skarstaad's new album. The first track alone is worth a download or just five streaming minutes of your time.

Now, I turn it over to Alex Theoharides to pick up the slack.

Theoharides On Bridesmaids or Why I Gave Up My Saturday Night to Watch Jon Hamm Act Like a Class A Richard

Alex Theoharides

First, a clearing of my rather snobbish nose: If I have to watch another topical George Clooney film about the war in Iraq or the state of the Economy, I might just have to write a blog post about how much I hate modern films (Oh crap, I think I just… ).  I’ve largely lost interest in movies as televisions shows such as The Wire, The Office, Mad Men, Friday Night Lights, and my latest craze, Sons of Anarchy, have consumed most of my viewing time. Movies are too long, too predictable, and quite often, just too damn run-of-the-mill. There are several better things I could do on a Saturday night—namely watch the NBA Playoffs, which, might I add, have been fantastic.

However, this past Saturday night there were no NBA games on, it was cold and rainy in Minneapolis (go figure), and after spending the previous few weeks in a state of extreme depression due to the demise of the Celtics, I owed my gal (henceforth known by her pseudonym Myrtle Schmeckpepper) a night spent watching a mindless chick flick. Which isn’t to suggest I don’t enjoy chick flicks. I have two sisters and I grew up watching Anne of Green Gables and Little Women and Little House on the Prairie and When Harry Met Sally and the Gilmore Girls and and and …  the list goes on. It only got worse in college, peaking when I spent a fortnight plowing through the first two seasons of the show Felicity (#unforgivable). In fact, I’d go as far as to say that after graduating from Skidmore College, with its 60-40 girls to guy ratio, I earned an advanced degree in Chick Flicks. I know why Love Actually can be perceived as arrogant male propaganda (really?, an Ugly Brit manages to score four sexually adventurous girls in a Wisconsin bar?). I could write a term paper on why Rory Gilmore (of previously mentioned Gilmore Girls’ fame) had to leave Logan in the show’s final episode to follow the Obama campaign (yes because that’s how journalism careers are made). And without breaking a sweat, I could tell you why Joey Potter (yes, Tommy Cruise’s cuddle buddy) chose Pacey Witter over Dawson Leery even though the show (yes, idiots, Dawson’s Creek) was named after him. It had something to do with this and this. Suffice it to say, it wasn’t particularly difficult for Ms. Schmeckpepper to convince me of the value of going to see a movie, especially when I read in Molly Lambert’s excellent Grantland teaser that it had the potential to become a female Caddyshack.

Please note, teaser alert begins now. Although anyone who thinks that Bridesmaids is the type of movie that needs a teaser alert is an idiot. (Sorry Matt, I promise I’ll stop calling your readers idiots soon, I promise)(after this one last time)(that’s right, you’re all idiots!)

Going to the theater is a rather miraculous experience in socialization. For some reason, if I’m watching a movie at home, and Ms. Schmeckpepper so much as fidgets in her seat , I feel the need to pause the program, shush her like that boy scout we all had in our third grade class who thought it was disrespectful to talk during the pledge of allegiance, and generally behave like a boor. However, within the rather sticky confines of a movie theater, I not only abide by any manner of sounds—the crunch of popcorn, the suck of straws, the ceaseless running of the mouth—I actually crave them, believing, naive schoolboy that I am, that they somehow add a certain quality to the experience, a sense of community, if you will. The crowd at Bridesmaids didn’t disappoint. I was out-gendered, easily 10 to 1.  The woman in front of me didn’t stop laughing from the moment the previews began. And the smell of buttery popcorn lingered over every seat. It was all so wonderful.

The movie was exactly what I expected it to be. Kristin Wiig, the only funny cast member left on Saturday Night Live, carried the performance from start (ladies, time to get your Hamm on) to finish (A Wilson Phillips’ “Hold On” dance sequence, need I say more). She played a downbeat woman trying to find love in this crazy world of ours, all while trying to be her best friend’s Maid of Honor. Like any Judd Apatow movie (and yes, I know he was just the producer not the director, but it was still an Apatow movie) the dialogue was fresh, the comedy raunchy, and the bit characters often stole scenes from the stars. In particular, Melissa McCarthy (yes, Sookie St. James from the Gilmore Girls) killed it, becoming, I hope, this summer’s Zach Galifianakis. The only unfortunate side effect being that right around the time she began to take her talents to South Beach (if her talents were diarrhea and South Beach was a white porcelain sink) on the silver screen, I realized I could never watch Gilmore Girls in quite the same way. And yes, I re-watch Gilmore Girls. And yes, I often do so on the Soap Network. Why? Who’s asking?

Other stellar performances include Chris O’Dowd as Wiig’s likable, and discreetly funny love interest (think Seth Rogen from Knocked Up, minus the Mary Jane and man boobs, plus a badge and a Scottish accent), Rebel Wilson and Matt Lucas as a social inept brother sister tandem, and … unfortunately that’s it. Many of the actors came across flat. Particularly, Wiig’s best friend in the film, who was played by the a little to good to be believable Maya Ruldolph, and her antagonist, Rose Byrne, who plays a villainous bridesmaid that tries to steal the role of Maid of Honor from Wiig. The flatness in both cases was not the fault the actors—it was the fault of the writing. The actors were given stereotypical roles (flustered bride, overeager and lonely rich young wife) and asked to make magic. They didn’t. I can live with that.

Bridesmaids was a fun, summer movie. It wasn’t great, and sadly, it certainly wasn’t a Chick Flick Caddyshack. It just wasn’t.

Final grade: B-

The Hounds of Love

This is a post about Kate Bush's album, Hounds of Love.  Before we get to the piece itself, just one note of interest:

- Last Friday I put up a piece about Cobble Hill. As part of that day, I also wrote a review of the restaurant Prime Meats, which you can now see at Brooklyn Exposed.  There should be more articles of mine appearing on the website in the coming weeks and months.

That's it.  Now, on to the main event.


The Hounds of Love

Women are slowly infiltrating my life.  That might sound completely arrogant – and there is no way to truly write or utter that sentence without seeming completely arrogant – however, I am going to try to explain. 

This is supposed to be an article/post/piece about Kate Bush and her album Hounds of Love from 1985. As I was preparing notes on the album, I realized that I didn’t know exactly what the album was about as a whole and I didn’t want to end up just giving a rundown of the album track by track. Then, I began thinking about the last music piece that I posted on the blog, which mentioned how different women singers have effected me as well as chronicle how much time I had put into listening to Joanna Newsom’s Have One on Me and She & Him’s Volume 2.  As I rehashed those feelings, I began to laugh thinking about all the Gilmore Girl nonsense that is occurring on the blog and in my world as of late – and when I say nonsense, I mean that in the sense that Gilmore Girls is vitally important and completely frivolous all at the same time and will develop into one of the top ten cult shows of all time.  When the laughter faded – as it always inevitably will, annoyingly so – it was already Mother’s Day weekend and I was heading home in order to treat my mother to a $50.00 gift certificate to Marlow & Sons and a day out touring the Long Island wineries; that bill would be footed by my father.

At the beginning of Anna Karenina, Tolstoy wrote, “All happy families resemble one another, but each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.” This holds true for men as well – and I know no truly happy man (I imagine this is true for women too, but I am a man (ok boyish still) and for the sake of this piece I am sticking to only one sex, since I lack the omniscient control of Tolstoy). There is a certain quality in men that causes them to romanticize the aloof, the wandering nature of the world, the vague notion that perhaps if they squinted their eyes hard enough they could see themselves in an image where they had no mother or father, where they were simply formed as they are – all their supreme faults and grandnesses standing in full and total completeness.  However, no matter how hard we chase down these Don Draper delusions, this is simply not true, no matter how orphaned you may be in reality or desire.

That is where the Hounds of Love come in.  One morning this past weekend, while I was walking my dog along the beach past the now abandoned home of one of my best friends, I looked at the swaying green trees that stand in the distance above the dunes.  The winds were incredibly strong and they pushed the leaves back and forth, the water rippled and my dog ran ahead dipping his head into streams of straw, wet sand trailing down his hind legs as he trotted.  I kept my eyes on the trees and thought of the opening lines of “Hounds of Love.” Kate Bush sampled a spoken word piece that says, paired to an out of time beat, “its in the trees, look out its coming!” The song then launches full tilt into its pounding-pop melody and doesn’t let up until nearly three minutes later. The sampled voice is full of some kind of terror and awe for what it sees coming through the trees (on a funny side note, these song could be used as a clip show for the old-school Smoke Monster from Lost – you know, when he used to rattle the trees before he appeared). One of the reasons why I aborted writing completely about Hounds of Love is that idea of something coming through the trees, because as I watched the trees being pushed by the wind on the that morning I couldn’t figure out what exactly it was that was coming for me through those trees.

What Kate Bush moans in the song is, “Now hounds of love are haunting/I’ve always been a coward/And I don’t know what’s good for me.” That is a sentiment that any listener can relate to.  Who has not felt the inclination at any time of day to recount those haunting feelings of past loves creeping along the backside of your arm or over your shoulders? Who has not felt that insecurity and weakness? Who in fact knows what’s good for them? Even on that morning that may have been what I was lamenting. However, as much as I felt the pulling on my heart of the different moments of love that have inhabited my past - standing on the point at Montauk watching the boats set out and holding the girl you love; sitting on a bench on the docks while the Irish band plays on shore in the heat of the afternoon; laying in bed in the early morning of a rainy spring day just south of Lake George; standing in the street against a car kissing and trying to understand what the summer means; that first kiss in the darkness of the room – that thing coming after me felt like more than that.  It felt like more, because the images that came to mind, were not those initial instances, but more vague and disparate sensations that were not completely tied to an image. There were sensations of a sunny fall afternoon, freshly showered after practice and sauntering back down to the back playing fields at the high school, feeling sun on skin and smelling the coolness in the air, anxious and relaxed at the same time, a few flowers draped high in the brush over that far fence.

Someone may read this and suggest that all that I am trying to say is that the Hounds of Love are merely those fleeting memories of youth or a past in general. And maybe that is true, because a certain “aesthetic” I have been developing in the non-sports content on this blog does relate to the notion of a past, of being lost on the path of life, “Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita/mi ritrovai per una selva oscuraché/la diritta via era smarrita,” as Dante once wrote. Even in the light-hearted nature of my podcasts, the song at the beginning “Musta Got Lost” by J. Geils Band, even though it is a song about a stupid guy who lost out on love, strikes truer in my own context of walking along through this world and thinking that at some point I must have gotten lost – that we all have gotten lost.  Lost from what, I don’t know – nor do I lament that fact, I just am meant to point it out.  A recent song I have been in love with is “Where Am I Now(When I Need Me)?” by the underrated guitarist Jesse “Ed” Davis. In that song, Davis, laments, “there’s a face in the mirror/seems familiar, like a sketch there I once drew.” Its an easy image of looking in the mirror and not recognizing one’s own face, but the way Davis delivers the line, in such a nonchalant and baffled manner makes it seem poignant.  The singer is a good time guy with no real cares, who happens to stumble into not recognizing himself. Our good friend Thomas Wolfe also once wrote the very simple and melodramatic, “O, Lost!”

So the Hounds of Love are present at every turn, they come through the trees and remind us of a past that is no longer present.  Everyone is haunted by their past in one way or another, so what is the big deal of Kate Bush singing about it this sensation in her own manner? The big deal lies in the conviction with which Bush sings the song as well as the imagery that she uses.  There is a section of the song where the singer encounters the body of a fox.  The singer sings, “I found a fox/caught by dogs/he let me take him in my hands/His little heart/It beats so fast/and I’m ashamed of running away.” This image carries over to the singer reflecting upon her own weaknesses: “From nothing real/I just can’t deal with this/But I’m still afraid to be here/Among your hounds of love/And feel your arms surround me./I’ve always been a coward/And never know what’s good for me.”  These are poignant lines that seem to come straight for any individual’s self-flagellation at their weaknesses. This singer has chosen to run away from love, from her past and the Hounds of Love have been unleashed upon her to bring her back in one way or another, whether physically or mentally.  The selling point comes with the imagery of the wounded fox.  There is a moment of connection between the singer and the fox’s little beating heart.  This struck me as relevant as I walked along the beach watching my dog trot along the rocks and shells and chase birds down by the water in an attempt to corral them in.  My dog is incapable of hurting another animal no matter how feral he may sometimes appear to strangers.  He is perhaps the most benevolent creature I have ever encountered. In some way, we are all at one point that benevolent with our hearts beating so fast. What the singer connects to, is that sense of vulnerability we all feel in tremendous doses. Her heart is beating so fast in her frantic escape from and attempt to understand these Hounds of Love.

The other standout track, for me, on this album is the song “And Dream of Sheep,” which is a haunting lullaby that I have mentioned elsewhere on this blog.  The refrain of this song is, “Let me be weak/Let me sleep/And dream of sheep.” The song brings to mind an image of youth, of a darkened room in the English countryside where there is only a dim nightlight on – perhaps with the silhouette of a carousel or stars projected onto the walls. And Bush’s singer moans, “Oh, I'll wake up/To any sound of engines/Ev'ry gull a seeking craft/I can't keep my eyes open/Wish I had my radio/I tune in to some friendly voices/Talking 'bout stupid things/I can't be left to my imagination.” This leads into the singer then requesting once again that she be able to sleep.  This song not only has a beautiful melody, but it strikes me as the moment when one does recollect their past.  Once you are left to your imagination, that is when the mind will obviously wander, and the mind will wander back to that past, before the moment of escape, before those Hounds of Love have been set out.  That time when you are allowed to be weak, allowed to sleep and dream of sheep, that vulnerable time that we think of when we have to hoist ourselves out of bed to face the day and our lives – that dangerous allure of something that may not have ever been.  For we envy the vulnerability of the fox because it is allowed to be vulnerable, but we are not. And when we feel that vulnerability, when we connect to it, we have to run away from it, which we are always ashamed to do.  There is no rest; there is no merit in wanting to sleep.

This whole idea ends back with the Gilmore Girls, and that is not a strange thing to say. In the Gilmore Girls podcast that went up on the blog earlier this week, Erik Lilleby and I mentioned how there is something soothing about the show, something comforting. This feeling can be tied to what another friend of mine said at dinner one night when he was reflecting on reading Crime and Punishment for the first time, which is that he said, “I wish I had never read Crime and Punishment so I could read it for the first time again.”  That is what the Hounds of Love are.  It is that desire to experience something for the first time again that chases us down to the end of the earth.  When I walked with my dog along the beach and saw those trees swaying against the backdrop of the openness of the Long Island, it wasn’t the pull of the loves I had lost that I felt along the back of my arms and up my neck, it was that freshness of the Saturday walking to the playing fields behind my old high school, my heart then beat just like the fox that Kate Bush’s singer held in her hands. That Saturday feeling, that freshness, the smells and the colors stands out as some first time experience in my mind and we can never gain that back.  The bright colors, the sharp dialogue, the very contained feeling of the characters and the plots of the Gilmore Girls reminds us of something fresh and neat that we don’t quite want, but feel the need to embrace anyway.  It reminds us of the beginning of something and the beginning of something is what we always run back towards, because we always find ourselves running away from that something once the beginning is over. We find ourselves lost, looking to remember how we got to a certain point and the only way to find where we are is to look to the beginning. But that isn’t always the answer.  What the answer is, I don’t know.  I just have the sensations from this past Saturday, walking with my dog along the water, passing the abandoned house of a friend of mine, and taking joy in seeing my dog run and jump at birds.  And perhaps those sensations are all that matter, perhaps those will keep the Hounds of Love at bay.

 In any event, the album Hounds of Love is fantastic, the music is experimental and phenomenal, big and 80’s sounding and tremendously catchy. And that’s all that really matters - even if those Hounds of Love will chase you down no matter where you go, just like some TV show with a Carole King song that plays at the beginning.

Puddles of My Podcast - Episode 11

It's been built up, been talked about, been rambled about over several beers and Season 1 DVDs at 4:00 in the morning, but now here it is - Puddles of Myself presents to you Puddles of My Podcast: The Gilmore Girls Edition. In this episode, I welcome Erik Lilleby, master quipper, nihilist and late night coffee drinker and novel reader, as well as the multi-talented artist Janelle sing to discuss the classic WB dramedy known as Gilmore Girls.  Be advised, if you do not follow the show Gilmore Girls, you will definitely enjoy this because of the witty banter that is used in order to explain some of the intricacies of the show. For those that know the show, in this episode we discuss, Lane Kim, Emily Gilmore as the best character on the show, Rory's boyfriends, Luke or Christopher, Suki's rapid weight gain and loss, and the top 5 Gilmore Girls moments - plus, KIRK! So, please sit back and enjoy this podcast with a big cup of coffee as Lorelai and Rory would at Luke's.  This is the podcast that kicked open the door to a generation's consciousness.

Mother's Day Monday

Alright, we are back with a post-Mother’s Day Puddles of Myself update. I hope you were all kind to your mothers.  I had a great Mother’s Day with my family out at some of the vineyards on eastern Long Island. We tasted a bunch of wines, bought a bunch of wines, my dad purchased some spicy mustard and we ate delicious steaks at this random small place on the side of the road.

Besides from that, I spent the weekend sitting by the Long Island Sound in the sun, drinking beer and watching dogs run around on some hills. In addition to playing rounds of the classic beer drinking game caps, which I think I will need to do a detailed column about – seeing as the game sort of formed me in many ways as the semi-man that I am today.

The main occurrence from the weekend was the recording of the Puddles of My Podcast Gilmore Girls Podcast, starring Janelle Sing and Erik Lilleby. This podcast was a few weeks in the making, but it was well worth the wait. These two know all about the Gilmore Girls and the characters and story arches that inhabited the show.  This is a 70-minute plus podcast that will be going up on the blog tomorrow afternoon. Now, I do not usually show my bias, but this is the best podcast that has been put up here so far.

Some other events:

- My sister played this video for me yesterday.  I had forgotten about it.  Great stuff.

- Friday night, the Celtics put on one of the most horrific playoff performances I have ever seen in my life.  They just did not show up to play Cleveland and seemed to be relying on Lebron’s elbow being injured rather than jumping out and taking it to Cleveland immediately, especially when they had them on the ropes after Game 2.  To be fair, Lebron was shooting lights out all game and the refs were making some bogus calls.  However, it was painfully obvious once more, that Rondo can beat anyone on Cleveland off the dribble, but was very hesitant in doing so on Friday night.

- All that being said, on Sunday afternoon the Celtics showed up.  Rondo was absolutely in control of the game and put up an insane line of 28 points, 13 assists, and a staggering 18 rebounds. If you watch highlights from the game, Rondo instinctively knew where to be for each rebound – I had never seen something like that before.  Also, Rondo completely controlled the game by moving the ball around, dictating the tempo the Celtics and the Cavs would play at and just basically had his hand in everything throughout the course of the entire game.  He also was able to beat the Lebron Chasedown Dunk by pulling off a perfect behind the back pass that looked extraordinarily easy. Other players should take note in order to begin to debunk the ridiculous myth that is already starting around Lebron’s Chasedown Block, which many times should be called goal tending except that the referees haven’t seen anything like it before so they are hesitant to make the correct call.

- The Celtics/Cavaliers series is tied at two games apiece going back to Cleveland on Tuesday night for Game 5. Basically, the Celtics have to come out pushing the ball against the Cavaliers and try to get them on their heels early. They need to drive at Lebron and make him work on defense. Rondo especially needs to get in the lane.  If Lebron is going to guard him as is rumored, that is even better, Rondo can try to get him in foul trouble, wear him down and maybe even make Lebron exert that “injured” elbow even further.  Because you know that Cleveland crowd will immediately get quiet as soon as anything goes wrong.  I have no sympathy for those fans and their losing ways. They are fair-weather fans who have no concept of the “Get back in this guys” cheer that is so necessary for a successful franchise and playoff run.

- I really enjoy the Phoenix Suns and the way they are playing basketball right now.  The Suns have a tremendously enjoyable team to watch. They still play an untempo level of basketball that is leftover from the “Seven Seconds or Less Era” from earlier in the last decade. Now, however, they have some more grit and glue players like Jared Dudley and Grant Hill, who, thanks to his years of injuries, still has fresh legs at 37 and has managed to make himself over into a defensive stopper who can also score and stretch the floor when you need him to. He has molded himself into a  1997-1998 Scottie Pippin mold, which in many ways is as hard to mold into as the 1997-1998 Michael Jordan mold that Kobe has basically successfully molded himself into.  The Suns/Spurs series was extremely entertaining even though it was a sweep.  Each game was must watch basketball, it was played at an extremely high level, and you had two legends from this era and two of the smartest players of this era, Steve Nash and Tim Duncan facing off. I hated both of these guys at one time or another in their careers, but I have reached a level of maturity to now admit how terrific they each are.  It was a fantastic series to watch and I am rooting heartily for the Suns to come out of the West.

- The Lakers appear to be the Suns’ likely opponent in the Western Conference Finals. The Lakers are basically outclassing the Jazz with Kobe, Gasol and the rest of their supporting cast. On Saturday, we saw the value that Artest adds to the team when he actually scores.  The Jazz are working hard to stay in this series, but the Lakers just have too much talent.  I think the Jazz might steal the game tonight, but the Lakers should win Game 5 in Los Angeles on either Wednesday or Thursday. Kobe has taken his game up a notch in this series after getting scared by Oklahoma City and looking slightly older.  He has really put on the late-era Jordan suit that he has flashed numerous times during the regular season.  We’ll see how quick the Lakers close out the series and if they can control the tempo against the Suns in the Western Conference Finals.

- In the other non-competitive series, the Magic just look dominant. Granted they are playing a headcase Hawks team that will probably be disbanded after this season, but the ease with which they are taking them apart is remarkable. The Hawks have talent and should have been able to win one or maybe two games to scare the Magic, but this one looks like a sweep that the Magic will complete tonight. If so, the Magic will have about a week of rest to prepare for the Cavaliers or the Celtics who will be playing a six game and most likely a seven game series.  It will be interesting to see if their easy route through the playoffs will have a detrimental effect on the Magic as it did to the Cavaliers last year.  This team seems focused and they have that dominant inside presence that the Cavaliers lacked, as well as their dangerous wing players – even Vince Carter seems to be trying.  This Magic team may be playing better and may in reality be better than the team that went to the Finals the year before.

That’s all the NBA chat for now.  We have the Gilmore podcast tomorrow afternoon and most likely a music column for Wednesday (thinking Kate Bush write-up) and then a podcast with my friend Jenna Morse and her boyfriend where we will be discussing movies, making movies, a good film, and maybe some sketch comedy favorite moments and do’s and don’ts.  So, as always, stay with me here because this blog is going to the top.  The top of what, I don’t know, but we’ll get there.

Have one on me tonight – hopefully the basketball isn’t too terrible.

Weekend

Alright, everyone, I am getting this second post up as I had promised earlier this morning/last night. I have started contributing to this website Brooklyn Exposed, and this article about Cobble Hill was one of the first column ideas I had pitched to them.  The actual article as it will appear will be slightly different from the way it will appear here, but I am going to put it up for your weekend enjoyment - you know, just something to think about.

Before we get to that, I just want to mention three things:

1. This weekend I will be sitting down with Erik Lilleby and Janelle Sing who has also started her own blog, Giovanni and Giotto and we will be discussing the popular television show Gilmore Girls. Both Janelle and Erik are old friends of mine and they are probably two of the foremost minds on the show Gilmore Girls in the United States of America. This round-table podcast has been in the works for a few weeks now, so I am looking forward to it and preparing diligently with my Gilmore Girl research to pose the tough questions to these pundits.

2. Monday will most likely see the next basketball column as there are some interesting storylines that are developing in each Conference Semifinal Series and I need to take the weekend to see how some of those storylines play out.  Tonight, should be a must see night of basketball as the Celtics and the Cavaliers square off on ESPN at 7:00 PM with their series tied at 1-1 and the series shifting back to Boston for two games.  There has been plenty of speculation about Lebron's injured elbow as well as the Celtics finally rediscovering that their team dynamic revolves around Rajon Rondo and the fact that he is now the best player on their team, rather than Pierce, Allen or Garnett.

The second game of the night will be the Phoenix Suns taking on the San Antonio Spurs.  The Suns are up 2-0 in the series, but now the series is going back to San Antonion for two games.  The Spurs have traditionally owned the Suns, but this year's Phoenix team seems different and will definitely be a tough out.  I think we are looking at a Lakers vs. Suns Western Conference Finals series, which I sort of hope the Suns win.

3. The podcast download battle between Nick Mencia and Erik Lilleby is now tied at 24 downloads a piece as we head into the weekend.  Who will get bored this weekend and push one podcast over the top? I have had two page visits that emnated from internet connections in Pakistan, will there be a third? And will that third one choose to download the voice of Nick Mencia? Or will it be Erik Lilleby? These are the suspenseful things you come to this blog for.  Who needs Lost when you have Puddles of Myself?

Anyway,  here is the article:

Stoop to Conquer: An Afternoon in Cobble Hill
By Matt Domino

Let’s say you’re 24 years old and it’s a beautiful day in late April; the sky is absolutely clear and you have recently resigned from an office job you detested in order to pursue your creative passions.  Let’s say this life decision has led you to save all the extra money you have in order to pay the rent in Williamsburg. With all of this established, how, you might ask, can one enjoy a relatively cheap day out in Cobble Hill?  This is precisely what my friend and I were able to accomplish a few Saturdays ago.

“Let’s get lost somewhere tomorrow,” my friend texted me on a Friday night.  The idea sounded fine to me and I had been meaning to wander around Cobble Hill ever since the winter weather had broken at the end of March.  So, my friend came over with a basket containing bread, cheese, soppressata and mint leaves.  The mint leaves were to be used to make mint juleps in preparation for a Kentucky Derby Day party she was putting on the following week. I bought the bourbon and we mixed a batch of slightly sweet mint juleps in an old lemonade bottle.  With all our supplies set, we hopped on a right on time G train heading south.  We got off at Bergen Street and walked east towards the water and Court Street.

After hitting the pleasant bustle of Court Street, my friend turned to me and said, “We should find a park.”  I’d been to Cobble Hill before, but I couldn’t remember a park.  However, walking down Congress Street and passing each of the regal and inviting brownstones, we came to the tiny Cobble Hill Park.  The park is located at the square of Congress Street, Clinton Street, Verandah Place, and Henry Street.  There is only a small plot of grass, but it is in a quiet square that is surrounded on one side by brownstones and on the other by colonial looking apartment buildings that might belong in Providence.   So, we sat and ripped pieces of bread with our cut soppressata and cheese and ate them as a lunch in the sun, with sips of slow warming mint julep.

We sat, talked and tanned in the park before getting antsy at the thought of discovering more of the neighborhood.  At the southwest end of the park, we went south on the sun-dappled Clinton Street, passing stoops that led to large well-kept wooden doors, the likes of which we do not often see in Williamsburg. We continued down Clinton, turning west on Union and then south onto Court Street. We stopped into G. Esposito and Sons Pork Store just to marvel at their selection of cured meats and other Italian delicacies that far surpassed our modest picnic.  My friend spotted a flea market on the side of P.S. 58, which is directly across from the playground at Carroll Park, where we milled around people selling Egyptian clothing and tiny, self printed baby jumpers, one of which our friend bought for a mutual friend of ours who is expecting.

The allure of Smith Street caught my companion and we doubled back north.  Friends of ours were going to join us for dinner so we wanted to scout ahead.  The best prospect we both agreed on was Grocery (288 Smith Street) with its take on the French bistro menu and its affordable prix fixe early dinner menu.  Smith Street is also packed with boutique clothiers and I found myself popping in and out of each one as my friend (a budding designer herself) wanted to view the goods.  We were both especially impressed by the clothes at Smith & Butler, which left us muttering, “Some day, some day” as we walked out to take tiny sips of mint julep.

We decided to do one more swoop through the neighborhood before picking a place to eat dinner, so we headed back up to Court Street by way of Warren and again admired the impressive homes.  We thought about a friend of ours who had just bought a house and wondered what it would be like to raise kids in one of these impressive and well maintained buildings with their stretching stoops and staircases.  At the corner of Degraw and Court, we spotted free samples of food outside of Sal’s Pizzeria. They were giving out pulled pork and jerk chicken on grilled pieces of flat bread.  At that point, I peeked in and caught a glance of what looked to be some tremendous looking authentic brick oven pizza.  My mouth was watering so I suggested we turn down Degraw back towards Clinton to escape all of the food.

The friends we were meeting for dinner called us as we walked along Clinton and suggested that we go to Prime Meats. I had heard that Prime Meats was a fantastic restaurant, although a bit pricey.  However, I decided that you are only young once and that I could scrounge up the rent money somehow.  I told my friend to come and pick us up so that we could all have a terrific dinner.

As my friend and I sat on the bottom step of one of the brownstone stoops, taking in some of the last light of the evening, I looked at one of the windows of a home across the way.  Again, I wondered what it would be like to live in one of these buildings.  With no job, a rent to pay and nothing but the freedom to decide how I would next make my income, I figured that I had plenty of time to find the best way to make it through one of these well lacquered wood doors and, that someday soon, I could peek my head past the lace curtains draped across one of these windows.

“Great day,” my friend said.

“I know,” I looked at her. “And we haven’t even eaten dinner yet.”

Sketchy

After a beautiful and fun weekend filled with some rooftop party action that included cornholing, strokin', clam chowder, mint juleps/jewlers, J. Geils Band, rye whiskey, homemade sourdough bread, late night caprese salad, late night Grand Morelo's, late night Gilmore Girls, and early morning Faces listening, its time to get down to business.

Now, I have mentioned, from time to time, some comedy sketches that I and my creative crew have been working on in the past few months.  We are still getting our footage and honing in on the scripts, but I wanted to release some still from two of the nearly completed sketches that will be a part of our first episode entitled, "Food."  The pictures you are about to see are from the sketches known as "The Plan/Toast" and "Sandwich," respectively.  I can guarantee that you will enjoy this episode once it is finished.  Comic genius all around.

Speaking of episodes, tomorrow, Episode 9 of PUDDLES OF MY PODCAST will be going up on the blog for you to stream or download. This is a very informative look at the New York technology scene with Andrew Hage, so I recommend listening immediately. Very timely stuff.  I have a few more episodes lined up for this week and next that I think show a variety of content and I am sure that you will all enjoy them.  In case you were wondering, Episode 6 with Nick Mencia currently trails Episode 1 with Erik Lilleby for most downloads.  The current score is 23-20, advantage Lilleby.

Later this week, I'll do some basketball ranting as well as put up the next part of From Here to the Last Mound of Dirt. Next week you can look forward to a new music review as well as a rundown of some links and other assorted B.S. that you should check out.

Just stick with me, I'll take you there.


The Plan/Toast:

Sandwich: