From The Mind of Jonathan Feldman

Here is a dream that Feldman had last night:

So apparently I was meeting up with Jennifer Coolidge at a bar for a date of some sort. She was drunk off her ass. I ordered a coke and something that looked like maybe chicken strips. She had some eggs and ham. Then she had to leave early since she was so drunk. Mind you we never once spoke a word to one another.
Then I come back hours later to find that she has left a check paying for the food. The check is for 50 bucks and the owner of the bar says that will definitely not be enough. He said if we had ordered a coke with vodka that even that alone would have been $90. So I'm kicking myself for not looking at the menu, and in the meantime I have to cancel my new order for some breakfast crepes. Then I remember this is the place I heard about on the news that had fries that were 4 bucks per fry. Per little fry.
And from there it became fuzzy, but I was very glad to wake up.
Oh. But I also saw that they had extremely large crispy tacos. HUGE. I showed my sister and she said, "Oh you mean the Daft Punk statues promoting their new concert?" I looked closer and for some reason it was their heads. Don't know how I confused it with tacos.

I feel that Feldman and my cousin Sarah ought to team up and write a book together.

Paul Reiser: Thief or Genius?

I love Paul Reiser. I love him. He is delightfully Jewish and shockingly underrated. If you've ever watched Diner you know what I mean. I think his work on Mad About You was the perfect antidote to Helen Hunt's. Once, he was a co-host at a charity ball I played at, and he poked fun at Kenny G (major points gained there). He was a presenter, I believe, at the Emmys some years back. (1999, maybe?) Anyway, he introduced Heather Locklear (or maybe it was Sharon Stone?... It's ultimately unimportant). I only remember this because of something he said when he was introducing her. I believe it was: "There is more to her than a pair of legs that make you wanna jump up and sing Sweet Sue." He said it in his slightly sarcastic, boyish manner of speech that, incidentally, makes me want to jump up and sing Sweet Sue. I wasn't sure why that stood out in my mind as the only thing I remember from the 51st annual Prime Time Emmy Awards- until this morning.

I was lucky to be raised by a Near-Jew. My father, whose friends were all Jewish (he has collected, in his Library of Friends, such surnames as Kipper, Birnbaum, Horowitz, Kijner, and Ellenzweig. Not bad for a shaygitz!)surrounded me with books by Woody Allen, routines by comics such as Robert Klein, and the genius of Mel Brooks. This last thing in particular is important here. Young Frankenstein and History of the World, part I were entertainment staples when I was in middle school. On road trips, we listened, without fail, to The 2000 Year Old Man tapes. There were so many memorable lines from those tapes ("Let 'em all go to hell, except cave seventy-six!") that I was never without Brooks shtick in any social situation. But, as with any great comedic recording, there are always lines that you don't remember, and each time you listen to the record, you notice something for the first time.
This morning, I was listening to the "2000 and Six Months" track in the car on the way to work for the first time in maybe 7 or 8 years. Brooks got on the subject of early medical remedies. He was discussing the abilities of different trees and, to my surprise, offered this example: "There are certain trees that, you chew their bark, make you wanna jump up and sing 'Sweet Sue.'"

What?!

Paul Reiser had to have been listening to Brooks sometime before he made that speech, right? I mean, sure the actual subjects of each of those sentences are different, but the descriptions are identical!

Which leads me to my question. Is Paul Reiser a thief? I don't know. Maybe he stole it by accident- I do recall his delivery of the line being somewhat on the "stumbly" side of things. It could have just come out of his mouth in the heat of the moment. He hadn't planned to use Brooks' line, it just happened that way. Or, maybe he thought he could get away with it because America only remembers lines like "I have over forty-two thousand children. And not one of them ... comes to visit me." (Which is a brilliant line, by the way. I'm not actually sure if America has such good taste.) Heck, maybe he was just attempting to bring the line into colloquial English.

In any case, I can't blame him. It's a really good line. It's the kind of line that makes you wanna jump up and sing "Sweet Sue."

Spike the Robot

Strangely, after reading the email by my 6 year-old cousin Sarah, my dear friend Chris Bulock found a story that he wrote when he was 6. Here it is, complete with original misspellings, for you, the reader:

SPIKE THE ROBOT

Once there was a robot named Spike. he looked like a human. If there was a battle he would join in. He had the biggest ship in the universe.

There was onliy one more person to help him run it. Spike was the gunnerand the main fighter.

The ship was called the star criuser. Spike liked to fight. They had very poerful weapons. The battles they fought in they always won. One day there was a big battle. Spik started it. One of the old ship mates was visiting. Spike said that he could take one weapon. While he was getting it he pulled the trigger. He accidentally hit Spike's friend. Spike got very mad. he punched the old ship mate. The ship mate flew away. he told his crew what happend.

In about an hour he and his crew came back. While they were coming Spike contacted his friends. He told them what happend. When the shkips got there the war started.

They fout for a long time. There wasn't anyone there icsept for Spike and the old ship mte. Spike finally blasted the old ship mate.

Dedicated to my dog Tonka.

Snow White and the Little White Lumps

My cousin, Sarah, is 6 years old. She wrote my mom this email the other night (it is presented as written, no editing):

rode my bike at night, all the way to a park far away. We call it littlefoot park. We rode around it and we went in a neighborhood right next to it. and it was just being built so there were lots of tracks. I couldn't tell how many or what kind they were. Yesterday we went to dads work and we went shopping at the mall and I got new crocks. Orange. and I don't know when we went to Glenwood Springs but we went down the alpine coaster. The alpine coaster was made by the germans. and we went in a cave. MORE than one cave. Two caves. One was called the king cave and the other I forget and how the person found King cave was through 'dam crack', It was just a crack in the wall. And it had so many fairy tales in it. There was only one that I remember, Snow White.............. andthesevendwarves. There were 7 little lumps made from white minerals ( stalagmites). and there was Snow White and the dwarves . or the little white lumps, were surrounding her. It's nice to write to you and it's fun. Love Sarah (and family)

Radio Days

Soundtrack of the Day: Always There by Joe Magnarelli

I watched Woody Allen's 1987 film "Radio Days" last night for the first time. It was such a sweet movie. Whereas all of Woody Allen's films are semi-autobiographical, or stem from some long-time fantasy of his, this one seemed to be the most rooted in his youth. The film does not have a strong central story. Rather, it is a number of anecdotes, situations and ideas centered around radio broadcasts in the 1940s.
For me the most touching part of the entire thing was the series of anecdotes wherein the main character (voiced over by Woody) described what each popular song at the time reminded him of. Songs, for me, have a particular associative power. A song latches itself onto a memory and acts as one of the more efficient triggers (along with smell). This segment, although only a few minutes long, really unlocked the true meaning of the film for me. It was a sort of sonic memoir, lamenting the decline of radio, and celebrating impoverished Brooklyn family life.
Also, it was really funny. The very opening bit was great! And Julie Cavner was really great casting-- it's odd to see Marge Simpson in person.
Woody Allen films always make me feel peaceful- either I'm glad whatever's happening is not happening to me, or I'm glad to be let in on a world where it's happening at all. "Radio Days" was the latter situation.

So now what? Well, naturally, I go nuts and add every Woody Allen film that Netflix has to my queue. (Which looks like it should be pronounced "quay-wee.")
If anyone wants to come over and watch "Zelig" I think it's on the way.

And now I leave you with another nugget of Bulockian wisdom:

Willy Shoe,

How many playground balls are there?

Imagine a calculus professor with no eyes. This would be a horrible way to learn. Additionally, how would he be able to teach the proper notation to students? Why did you hire him? He has tenure now, and there's nothing we can do. I suppose it's because you have no eyes, and you felt some sort of bond. Well, Shoe, this is an awful mess we're in.

From the Office of
Dean Kiki