Alex on Comedy

“Tell me what you love, and I will tell you who you are.” –Arsène Houssaye

I was interested in trying something different from an ordinary blog. Rather than little old me randomly opining on the state of the world (it’s a mess), the latest book I read (M Train by Patti Smith –excellent), or celery (aka Satan’s dental floss), I wanted to set up a sort of confession album, a 19th-Century practice in which friends asked each other questions, the most famous one being the Proust Questionnaire. For this confession album, I figured what better way to get to know people than to ask them to talk about something they love. And so, here are the questions, with the hopes of learning more about some interesting people and the things that move and shape them. Today’s interview is with Alex, who is speaking on comedy.


What is one thing (object, idea, practice, etc.) that you love?

I love comedy, especially in darker times. Jokes are like bomb squads, always diffusing tragic situations and sadness. I mean, the dead person’s not there to refute the situation at the core of said joke. See? Fun. 

How did you first come to discover comedy? Do you remember?

I think it was during my formative years. I wasn’t a “normal” baby, for medical reasons. So, I had to find something to let people know about me, in a whole new fashion. 

Do you feel like anyone mentored you when you first discovered or in developing your love of comedy? If so, who and under what circumstances?

I had mentors, mainly people whose comedy I would watch on the YouTube thingy. One of my mentors in comedy was the great (and late) Robin Williams. The speed of light inside this man’s brain was extraordinary. Also, Hitchcock. “Puns are the highest form of comedy.”

What do you love about comedy?

Making others laugh so that they can forget the dire aspects  of their lives is what I love about it.

How do you express your love for it?

By continuing to do it. 

How do you feel it makes your life better?

Not sure. It does and it doesn’t. Seeing others feel better is always a quick-fix of a relief. But it also becomes an addiction, in the long run. And when I feel as though I’ve spent a day without making someone laugh, I feel almost like a failure. I need that laughter, like a drug addict needs a fix. Maybe, it would make my life better if people remembered me for something, after my demise.

If someone were interested in discovering more about comedy, where would you direct them? Where would they start? 

Watch and learn the classics. Just like any art form. Learn from the masters, whomever they may be.

Michael on Making Music

“Tell me what you love, and I will tell you who you are.” –Arsène Houssaye

I was interested in trying something different from an ordinary blog. Rather than little old me randomly opining on the state of the world (it’s a mess), the latest book I read (M Train by Patti Smith –excellent), or celery (aka Satan’s dental floss), I wanted to set up a sort of confession album, a 19th-Century practice in which friends asked each other questions, the most famous one being the Proust Questionnaire. For this confession album, I figured what better way to get to know people than to ask them to talk about something they love. And so, here are the questions, with the hopes of learning more about some interesting people and the things that move and shape them. This week, we are talking to Michael about his love of making music.

 

What is one thing (object, idea, practice, etc.) that you love?

There are many things I love and they’re often seemingly unrelated (except by the fact that I love them), but if I had to choose one, it would be music making.



How did you first come to discover making music? Do you remember?

Vividly. My dad made music, with a band. Seeing them rehearse in our garage is what really lit the fire. That and listening to Les Paul records. I needed to know how Les made those sounds. They were sounds you didn’t encounter in nature. Who wouldn’t want to know how to make music that nobody had ever heard before?



Do you feel like anyone mentored you when you first discovered or in developing your love of music besides your dad and Les Paul? If so, who and under what circumstances?

Every musician that ever showed me how to make a sound. There were so many. My cousin’s husband showed me a lot.



What do you love about making music?

The best thing is if you can imagine a sound or a song in your head, you can bring it out of your imagination and into the real world. You never get bored with music because if you can’t find something you like, you can make your own, almost exactly as you’d like it to be. You move from being a consumer of music, with the limits to choice that that implies, to being a producer of music. The better you get at music production, as a craft, the better you like the music you make. 



How do you express your love for making music?

I have spent a lot of the money I ever earned on music making tools. I spend a lot of time on it, too. What interests me a lot, lately, is refining my music making process so that I get results I like much faster, without loss of quality or integrity. The slow way can be painstaking, so discouraging. Developing a good process for music making gives me more satisfaction. I like what I make a lot more.



How do you feel making music makes your life better?

Someone (maybe McCartney) said you can tell your guitar things that you otherwise couldn’t talk about. Music making is cathartic. I find I can talk about the deepest things, through music. There’s another dimension, too. Music allows you to express feelings almost directly from your emotions straight to sound waves. There are few things better than knowing you can share feelings so powerfully.



If someone were interested in discovering more about making music, where would you direct them? Where would they start? 

These days, there are infinite resources online, but for me, the best route was getting a cheap instrument, pressing my ear directly against it, then making a sound. Any sound. Learn to dig how that makes you feel. Let it carry your consciousness away to some other place, for a while. Fall in love with the sounds you make.




Warren on Quiet

“Tell me what you love, and I will tell you who you are.” –Arsène Houssaye

I was interested in trying something different from an ordinary blog. Rather than little old me randomly opining on the state of the world (it’s a mess), the latest book I read (M Train by Patti Smith –excellent), or celery (aka Satan’s dental floss), I wanted to set up a sort of confession album, a 19th-Century practice in which friends asked each other questions, the most famous one being the Proust Questionnaire. For this confession album, I figured what better way to get to know people than to ask them to talk about something they love. And so, here are the questions, with the hopes of learning more about some interesting people and the things that move and shape them. Today, we have Warren talking about his love of quiet.

 

What is one thing (object, idea, practice, etc.) that you love?

I love being in the quiet. It helps me shuffle words around.
Moving words around is difficult when I hear a TV or a radio or a conversation taking place. I don’t mind it when the refrigerator hums, though.
But even though I really love quiet, I also really love music. They live in two separate compartments. The moment dictates which compartment is opened.

How did you first come to discover your love of quiet? Do you remember?

It was an early morning in October about 5-6 years ago. Maybe around 5am? The refrigerator was humming. The heat was on.
I was able to gather my thoughts and place them in a ‘living’ document.
Thoughts for me are like cats. You can herd them, but the success rate is very low and full of scarring.
I find if I’m in a quiet room, the thoughts will arrive with minimal risk of physical injury.

Do you feel like anyone mentored you when you first discovered this love or in developing your love? If so, who and under what circumstances?

I can’t say I had a mentor, but I can say I feel encouraged in the quiet. I was also encouraged to rearrange words when I was in the 10th grade. Mrs. Vaughan. A kind and thoughtful teacher. I think this was the first time someone encouraged me to be creative with writing.
Was she there with me 5-6 years ago in October? Maybe.
I think many people are with you when it’s quiet.

What do you love about quiet?

I can think in the quiet. Noise makes thinking harder. Noise is like a wind that makes it tough for thoughts to move in the directions they want to go. But noise can also be helpful. Sometimes when a noise pushes and pulls, I’ll end up in an unexpected and interesting place.And when it’s quiet, I unpack my RDA of noises and separate them into different bins. Some noises I’ll revisit. Some I’ll keep for a rainy day or a Saturday. Some noises go straight into the trash bin. Okay. Many noises go into the trash bin.

How do you express your love for quiet?

I get up early and have coffee. I honor the quiet by keeping noises to a minimum. Noise also includes conversation. My wife honors my quiet with no conversation until after 7. She will, if needed, let me know if the house is on fire.

How do you feel quiet makes your life better?

Quiet brings structure. It is a place built for thinking and shuffling. Normally I don’t have much structure. My atoms tend to float about and leave for vacation without telling me.

If someone were interested in discovering more about quiet, where would you direct them? Where would they start? 

The best place to start is to find a place that’s quiet. It may be at home or in a park or at the library. Ambient noise is always around, and to me, ambient normally doesn’t distract. Bring paper and pen or a laptop or a phone or a scribe.
Recall a noise or don’t. Rearrange a few words or don’t. Read a story or don’t. Quiet is flexible. You can do almost anything when it’s quiet.