I’ve been thinking about everyone who is babes, and how it proves there is often no real concrete beauty standard when it comes to personal taste, unless you are one of those guys who only dates asians or 19 year olds or both, in which case why are you reading this blog?
Seth Rogen and Paul Newman are both on my Babes List, for example. I am pleased with a list that can include both those men. I dreamed last night that I was trying to make out with Seth Rogen and he didn’t want to and he was annoyed with me. What a sad dream! Probably a very realistic dream.
This dream prompted a morning-coffee discussion of Seth Rogen which then prompted some googling, upon which we discovered that he was SIXTEEN when he was in Freaks and Geeks. He was the youngest member of the cast. He was basically the same age as Sam Levine! What a crazy time in the lifespan of a human, when Sam Levine and Seth Rogen can both be sixteen years old and yet look the way they each do on that show. Developmental stages are very strange indeed. From Boy To Man
You know whose career I find so bizarre? Bradley Cooper. He’s obviously a huge babe but like how did he suddenly start helming massive summer blockbusters? I knew him for so long as simply the guy from that great Stella episode and Wet Hot. A pretty face and some natural charisma certainly will take you far in this world.
Last night we went to a bar near our house that was almost empty. After awhile three old men began setting up to play live music. It turned out they were a blues harmonica band. Like a stand-up electric bass, an electric guitar, and then this harmonica player who was really good. They played really shitty 12-bar blues over and over again, just in different keys. I thought a lot about Muddy Waters, and his amazing life journey, which somehow led to this. And anyway we just sat there and actually watched the band, like a middle aged couple at a diner, which is basically what we were. Halfway through I had this uncanny moment of feeling my past self overlaid on top of my present self, which usually is kind of a familiar and comforting feeling, like, “oh hello you!” But this time it was disturbing because my past self and my present self felt so totally different. It was a moment of really really understanding that you truly are no longer the person you were 10 years ago. The younger version of myself would be unable to experience the live music with anything less than 100% irony, like probably even to the point of being unintentionally hurtful or rude to the dudes playing music. My present self, however, was at more like 50/50. Like part of me was cringing about how bad bad blues is, but another part of me was really genuinely like “good for them!” and clapping really supportively. It was surreal.
I was also thinking about Elvis and charisma and stage presence and all that stuff you can’t put your finger on. Like Elvis wouldn’t actually sound THAT much different, technically, from these guys, and yet if 1950’s-era Elvis had been on that stage I would have been FUCKING RIVETED. What is that about? And it’s crazy that you’ve either got it or you don’t, whatever “it” is. Muddy Waters leaving his shack in Mississippi and just being like “I’m gonna go to Chicago and play music, FUCK IT,” and actually doing that, and being amazing, and founding a whole new genre, because of the intangible something about him that has nothing to do with his guitar technique, which, come on, there’s only SO GOOD you can be at the guitar. There’s more to it than that.
I also thought about how weird the harmonica is. It’s an instrument you never think about, but it’s kind of brilliant.