The Weekend in Foolish Attention
Bit and bytes of the week
“THE” IS A GREAT PREFIX. A huge parent of my desire to relocate is to go out and see and hear cultural things that can only be found in Chicago. Last Monday night, I decided to walk three blocks to a bar that was hosting a long-running storytelling night—not to tell but to listen. It was great. The room was perfect and crowded, the stories were all quite good. One of the producers instantly recognized me and we talked a bit about what he’s been up to since I split. One of the other producers closed out the show with a fantastic story. After, I went up to her to let her know how much I dug the tale.
“Jake told me you were here. Are you…” and she paused for a beat. “THE Don Hall?”
I’m not seeking out that sort of greeting but I gotta say it feels pretty good being “THE” Don Hall rather than confused for a deceased KS DJ. I won’t lean in on this sort of reception but, after five years of being somewhat overlooked by everyone but my family, having a brief window of being “THE” Don Hall ain’t too shabby.
I UNDERSTAND THE MAGAS. It makes absolutely zero difference for them that Trump is a deadbeat, a criminal, a shyster, and an unrepentant asshole. They’re voting for him if he’s on the ballot in November. I read about Biden’s diminished capacity. I hear the reports and pour over the transcript between he and the investigator of his having classified documents. I see him dodder on, misremember things, and mumble non sequiturs when speaking to the press. Taking all of that in and being as rational as I can allow myself, I would vote for him over Donald Trump if they rolled Uncle Joe out on a dolly, pennies on his eyes, and had a ventriloquist jam his fist up his wizened ass and move his mouth.
MARCH IS FOR ASSESSMENT. It feels like I never left but I did. It’s been five years. The way my brain works, I want to be in the thick of it, doing my nutty art thing, telling stories onstage, putting up shows right now. Like the patience I took to properly move here (which went pretty much flawlessly) I’m practicing patience this month. Take my time and assess the landscape. Go to shows and see what’s going on in the city because my M.O. is to add something no one else doing.
REMEMBER STEPHEN GLASS? You know, the 20-year old who fabricated 42 or so stories and got caught as a fabulist bullshit artist creating his own version of Fake News before the term had been coined? It was meticulously covered in the press and featured a post-Star Wars Hayden Christianson in the film Shattered Glass. I caught this the other day:
After the scandal, one of the few people who gave him a helping hand was a personal injury lawyer named Paul Zuckerman, who, after first tossing Glass’s résumé in the trash, decided to give him a second chance.
Glass has served as a law clerk for Zuckerman ever since. Zuckerman has a lot of indigent and homeless clients—and Glass is the one who helps them through the legal process. In its otherwise harsh decision, the California Supreme Court was forced to concede that Glass was “an employee who conducted excellent legal research, was assiduous and hyper-scrupulous about honesty, and stopped to think about ethical issues.”
Glass committed his fraud when he was in his mid-20s. He was 42 when California refused to admit him to the bar. A few years later, he paid $200,000 to The New Republic and the other magazines as a form of restitution. For much of his 40s, he cared for his wife, who died of early onset Alzheimer’s. The guy has not had an easy life.
His one claim to infamy occurred 26 years ago. He still pays for it in the court of public opinion. Despite all protestations to the contrary, we really are not a forgiving bunch of monkeys.
PUSHING ENVELOPES. It’s been a while since I routinely engaged with new people. Conversations with my mom are easy because there is no need to impress or entertain. No judgment so the dialogue is honest and genuine. This week has felt a bit like a long session of speed dating and I find myself pushing a bit too hard to establish that I have either dramatically changed for the better or not changed at all from five years ago. I watch my buddy, deep in the throes of divorce, as he talks to strangers and that push isn’t unique. He is really trying to impress. I believe we all do it to some degree but I think it is unnecessary. It’s a natural human response but also more energy to cement an impression, one you can’t take back or adjust much later on, so being intentional is key.
In the incredibly speedy transition from my reality two weeks ago and my reality today, it’s some good Jiminy Cricket advise to chill out, focus on the work in front of me, and trust that I’m the right person in the right place and let others pose for me. Also, it’s far more entertaining.
BTW—ZOOM MEETINGS SUCK. I like using Zoom to record podcasts that involve guests because it’s easier for them and the recording quality is easily boosted. I cannot get into Zoom meetings. I despise meetings in general and always have—a quick ten minute walk in the Sorkin hallway can get more information across more quickly than sitting and staring at a gallery of bad video for an hour. My solution catches people here in the offices off guard—I just show up at the office, assess if they’re too busy to talk for ten minutes, and either come back later or get the communication done with some jokes and banter on the side. Way better than Zoom.
LOTS OF STORIES. This week I went to Is This a Thing, Pour One Out, and This Much is True and heard twenty-two stories onstage. It was fantastic. Stories about a guy claiming to be Geraldo Rivera, license plates from beyond the grave, an adopted woman meeting her biological sister for the first time, an hysterical story of a young teacher disillusioned by textbook graffiti. I ran into people I haven’t seen in years, met some new faces, and a great week. Yes, I told the elevator pitch about the divorce more than a few times but most of the time, when asked about it, the answer was “Went to Vegas, got a spectacular, absurd divorce (Vegas does that), went home to be with my family which was exactly where I needed to be, now I’m back to stir things up.”
That’s the week. I’m finding my rhythm here and soaking in all there is to offer in this, the single greatest city on the planet.
Amigo...you were, are, and always will be THE Don Hall to those of us with intelligence and taste. As for Zoom...it's just most contact without touch...mummies talking at each other. Finally...I bet Stephen Glass never dreamed whole media outlets would be based on his mistake. Enjoy the big windy one, Bud.