The Weekend of Foolish Attention

Bits and bytes of the week

One more confirmation that I’m ‘that guy.’ In I Didn't Marry a Prostitute...: A Sordid Tale of Deceit, Disillusionment, and Divorce there is an essay that posits that I am a peripheral character in the lives of those around me rather than the main character of any storyline. I’m ‘that guy’ you know who did something wild or had something happen to him that seems extraordinary. “Remember that guy whose wife became a prostitute in Las Vegas?”

Well, in the confirmation of this status, last weekend I received a five-star review of the book written by one of her customers. Yes, one of my ex-wife’s johns read the book and reviewed it. Here’s the full text of the review with some clarifications over at LiterateApe.com.

I encourage anyone who has paid her for a ‘3-hour love fest’ or even a 15-minute handjob to purchase the book and review it!

Hey! It’s time for some gratitude! This week was Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving while I lived away from the family was usually a lesser holiday celebrated in Chicago or Vegas. Last year, mom and I cooked up a feast and, while she and I were both a little zombified, it was grand. This year, mom had her hip replaced two days prior so the feast was more collaborative with me shouldering the big dishes (including a ginger/garlic glazed turkey).

Last year I was thankful to be simply standing upright. This year, I have a lot more to be thankful for and thus a mini-list!

In this year of our Lord 2023, I am beside myself with gratitude for my amazing and loving (and sort of nuts) family. Big ups to the fact that my dad’s health, while dire, is still pretty stable and that mom, due to her increased attention to her physical fitness, is knocking this hip replacement thing out like a champ! Gracias to my sister who lets me know every morning I’m in her thoughts and for my friends back in Chicago and Vegas who let me know I’m a semi-lovable ass.

I’m also pretty grateful for my own health and renewed optimism for the future. There for a while I thought I had lost that permanently but it’s definitely back in full force. All in all, I’m quite appreciative of so much about this past year—the improbable landing of a decent gig that allowed me the time and space to be of service to my family, the incredibly cool apartment I ended up in, the books and podcasts I’ve been a part of—while 2023 has been nothing short of a recuperative time, the time has flown by and I’m at, like, 93% (which is at least 22% more than most people I know).

In a strange way, I’m thankful to be witness to the march of history. I have made it through the end of the Cold War with Russia and the beginning of the next with China, the destruction of unions by Ronald Reagan and the resurgence of them today, the Trump presidency, a pandemic, the creation of artificial intelligence. For the time with my dad and his endless supply of stories. The wisdom and endless sense of fun and joy of my mother. I’m truly thankful for my surprising, idiosyncratic, bizarre life on this planet and for the belief that I still have more to do.

Undiscovered Country. One of the things I used to love to do was cook for people. Back in the days of the theater, I’d host weekly barbecues and Orphan’s Thanksgivings and cook a host of foodstuffs. Never a culinary expert by any means but the idea of making a bunch of food for a room full of hungry people just made me happy.

Dana (the ex-wife) wasn’t much for eating at regular times and did not eat meat so I sort of… stopped. Cooking for myself just wasn’t as much fun.

My time in Wichita has reignited this practice. My family loves a good meal and after last Thanksgiving (where my incredibly picky sister declared it ‘the best turkey she’d ever had in her life’) the gang was hooked and requested special meals for every occasion. Lobster Mac & Cheese, Birria slow-roasted tacos, fully-loaded shish-k-bobs, you name it, they wanted it.

At this point, while I’m keeping specifics vague, I am returning to Chicago soon and my dad asked me what I was planning to do.

“The same as before?”

“No. I did all that, did it really well. Time to figure out something new.”

“Reinventing yourself? I’ve done that a few times. It’s not as easy as it sounds.”

“Yeah. I lived there for thirty years. Burnt some bridges and my guess is that the smoldering ruins of them are still littered around but it’s a big city. The old rivalries are too dull to even consider. Plenty of bridges remain for me and I get to choose which ones to cross or avoid.”

“So what do you think you’ll do?”

It occurs to me that attending Kendall College and getting a culinary degree might just be something I’d like to pursue. Now, that would be a cool, late-stage career move, huh?

Sparing the toxic rod. I suspect that any adult who considers harsh words or language that makes them uncomfortable ‘violence’ never got smacked in the mouth for talking back to a parent. I’m not advocating for adults beating up on kids (although there are some high school kids I’ve seen videos of attacking their teachers that I think could use a healthy ass-kicking). On the other hand, there are a lot of angry activists on both side of the divide calling for ‘consequence culture’ and accountability so why not start early instilling that ethic?

A child with no consequences for bullshit behavior learns one thing: there are no consequences for their bullshit. My mom used to get the belt out and whip me when I pulled some stupid, thoughtless, obnoxious stunt. No bones were broken, no lacerations. It was the shock of the beating rather than any pain I endured. It didn’t stop me from doing stupid shit but it did give me perspective when dealing with others. Mouth off and you might just get clocked and you’d deserve it.

Pete Holmes is the right kind of screwy. I caught the latest Pete Holmes Netflix stand-up special, Pete Holmes, I Am Not For Everyone and the guy is just funny as hell. So strange. He filmed it in a theater in Minnesota and the choice to do his borderline lunatic version of the world to a more conservative bunch is hysterical.

Smells like a cash grab. In the past month, a slew of sexual assault lawsuits has been filed against high-profile men in the entertainment industry for alleged abuse that took place years — and in some cases, decades — ago. The cases have been filed under the Adult Survivors Act, a New York law signed in 2022 that temporarily lifted the statute of limitations for filing a sexual assault complaint, allowing survivors one year to file suits against their alleged abusers, regardless of when the alleged abuse happened.

Strangely, none of those accused are broke. Also, if you were so traumatized by something that it took you decades to try to squeeze some money out of your tormentor, the question remains: how is money gonna help you? I mean, you’re either a grifter or are so seriously fucked up that money will only make it worse.

Subscribe or pound sand. According to Axios, the practice of offering subscriptions for service is growing exponentially.

The big picture: We don’t just subscribe to streaming services anymore.

• Car washes are doling out memberships.

• Pet toys and treats coming in recurring bundles,

• More people are subscribing to meals, as the market for food delivery boxes grows.

• The personal care and grooming market has pivoted to subscriptions, with razors, makeup, and personalized hair care arriving monthly in the mail.

• Even Taco Bell offers a subscription service — $10 a month for a taco a day.

I’m fine with subscribing to certain services but the double-dip that infuriates is combining both a membership and advertising. On the other hand, anyone who becomes a subscriber to Taco Bell is an avatar for everything the rest of the world sees as the ugliness of Americans.

That’s it gang! Have a spectacular week!