Tim Hackbarth

This is Mike Birbiglia reading his story “D-U-Why?!”, excerpted from Episode #379 of This American Life.

Don’t listen to this while shopping at Whole Foods. It could lead to embarrassing sniffles and watery eyes in the coffee aisle.

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This was Saturday night at Conjunctured. Careful viewers might catch a glimpse of me in a blue-checked shirt. Perhaps even a few glances.

Via Kienan. Created by Nick Simonite.

I guess we were supposed to climb the left one. I climbed the right one.

I’m still finding cactus needles stuck in various parts of my body.

photo by John

Grandma cooked us a vegetarian lunch.

She’s a good cook, but vegetarian food is her achilles heel. Crazy how a lifetime of kitchen experience can be rendered useless by the removal of meat.

Lunch is delicious, though Gramps doesn’t agree. In any case, it won’t be served again. Grandma never makes the same meal twice.

After 60 years, you’d expect her to have some favorite recipes. A few go-to plays, crowd pleasers, hit songs. But Grandma refuses to play the hits.

“I got this recipe from Delores last week,” she says. ”I don’t know if it’ll be any good.”

So Grandma cooked us a vegetarian lunch. And Grandpa was there. And John. And Shelly. And Mom too, I think.

Someone at the table mentions my dad. Grandpa still misses Dad. I do too, but Grandpa says it.

“He was my best friend. We did everything together.”

Grandpa is gearing up for a story. And Grandpa isn’t like Grandma, he sticks to the hits. For example:

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Hit Story #1: As a teen, Grandpa pisses in the gas tank of a police car. It’s winter in Iowa and his urine freezes the fuel line.

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Hit Story #2: Serving as deputy sheriff, Grandpa responds to a nudity complaint. Discovering a homely, middle-aged lady receiving oral sex from a dog, he tells the bestial woman that her business is her business so long as it happens behind closed doors.

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Hit Story #3: Now retired, Grandpa goes fishing in the boundary waters with Dad, Uncle Jack and Uncle Paul. After several Miller Lights, Jack stands to relieve himself off the back of the boat. Paul revs the prop engine, sending Jack splashing into the chilly, Minnesota lake.

It seems all Grandpa’s hit stories include genitalia. Don’t assume that’s a coincidence.

So Grandma cooked us a vegetarian lunch and Grandpa was telling a story. But this time, it was a new story.

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A week or so after your dad died, I came to the house to take you boys fishing. I thought it might cheer you up.

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We drove to Lake McBride and set up along the bank. I helped you bait your hooks and cast your lines. Then I walked a ways down shore to find a spot of my own.

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20 minutes later, I came back to check on you. You boys both had your head between your knees. You were crying.

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“Fishing didn’t cheer you up,” I thought, “there’s no sense in staying.” 

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We packed up our poles and got back in the car.

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You boys were hungry, so we stopped at Jonesy’s on the way home for those big tenderloins. The server gal noticed how sad you were, and I told her about how you’d just lost your dad.

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When we were through eating, I asked her for the ticket.

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“There’s no charge” she said. “It’s on the house.”

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“No. We’ll pay, we’ll pay.” I insisted. But she wouldn’t take a dime, so we ate for free.

Grandpa trails off, marking the end of the new story.

I turn to Shelly and she’s crying. But she smiles at me. Mom’s eyes are watery, too.

And Grandpa looks confused. His genitalia stories rarely elicit tears. I keep thinking about Grandpa’s new story.

How it leaves a depressing Norman Rockwell painting in your mind.

How it’s strange to have someone fill in the cracks of your biography.

How many other stories exist beyond Grandpa’s cannon of hits.

And how the final verse in the fishing story was all about free tenderloins.

Shadow chasing - Albuquerque, New Mexico

Hot air balloon sans hot air - Albuquerque, New Mexico

JC Brooks & the Uptown Sound - I Am Trying To Break Your Heart

Now that’s how you cover a song…

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I keep a list of analogies. They’re things that I observe, but I don’t know where they go. They’re orphans. I don’t know what larger idea they tie to. They’re the last half of the metaphor. Imagine “You know, it’s kind of like…” at the beginning of these. They’re insight without meaning, maybe. Or…

It’s near impossible to conjure up a good analogy on command, so I write them down too. After 10 to 20 years of careful documentation, I’ll have a witty analogy for every conceivable situation. Maybe even several gems to choose from! That’s the plan at least…

Here are a few from my stockpile, no editing:

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Doesn’t have the patience to pre-heat

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Devoured it like drunk people eating Mexican food

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About as conspicuous as Monica Lewinsky at a black light party

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One of those neighborhood where the mailman hands mail directly to each person…sometimes in exchange for cookies or a casual comment about the weather

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Like putting a bowl of dog food in the middle of the road

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You can’t tickle yourself properly

When you see these in my future writing, feign amazement at my ability to find the perfect analogy, okay?

Tom & Joz teaching everyone how to Dougie after our kickball game last night.

Maxin’ and relaxin’ by the pool.

Photo by Sarah

The cornfield behind Snus Hill Winery - Madrid, Iowa

I helped out at Austin Bat Cave on Tuesday, editing their soon to-be-released student anthology. After pouring over dozens of poems, short stories and writing exercises, I concluded that teenage writers can be classified into two groups:

1. Kids writing like a writer.
2. Kids writing the way they think.

The first group is comprised of “good students.” Their writing receives top marks for the use of big words, adjectives and adverbs. It might go something like this:

The forest was dark and eery, but the tall, handsome man wasn’t afraid - nothing frightened him now that he’d seen war.

The second group is a motley collection of students who are average, ESL, ADD, ADHD, low-income or who simply don’t care about school. Their writing receives poor marks for containing inappropriate language. Or for being one page instead of three. Or for starting sentences with conjunctions.

The way we are evaluating these students is backwards.

Stuff written by the second group may be rough, broken and confused - but it’s real. They don’t need an F, they need an editor. Thankfully, organizations like Austin Bat Cave free students from the constraints of our education system and allow them to be creative.

Here was my favorite piece from the anthology:

True expression is how you show what you’re doing. You could write, draw, doodle, sing and/or dance. I doodle to create and am creating a mural.

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Start with something small and create something large.

Are you kidding me? That’s better than anything I’ve written in months.

A+

Once in a rare while, someone really pisses me off.

After a healthy dose of whiskey, I open Gmail and draft a letter so scathing, it makes paint peel and school children cry.

Rationality returns with mere seconds to spare, however, and I opt for the button labeled “Discard.”

Dan Gilbert?

He hits “Send.”

Deer Tick - Dirty Dishes

It’s a good thing I don’t listen to this song on vinyl…the grooves would be worn to nothing.

It’s some dirty dishes and you wanted more
And you got left, and it hurt
Oh but it could be worse
Yeah, things could be so much worse

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On Youth and Young Manhood, I try to post things I’ve created. If you give me your attention, you can be fairly certain you’re reading something new…something I made for you.

This also means I don’t share the great things others have created, however, and I wanted a way to do both.

Over the past two weeks I made big changes to YYM. I now have a place to showcase the great work of others while still keeping the main content my own.

If you’re reading this somewhere other than YYM and haven’t seen it, you might have a look.

Some things that are new:

• Articles - a list of my favorite liberal arts 2.0 pieces from across the web
• I Worked Here - posts in the sidebar from the infrequently updated and never before mentioned photo blog about where I work
• Books - Non-fiction I’ve read, with excerpts of my favorite parts
• “Best Of” - a compilation of my favorite pieces from the YYM archive
• A list of the people I follow

Thanks for letting me create (and curate) for you.

You can use travelocity to book it because if you want, you get to swim with the dolphins for free as a bonus. Although I wouldn’t recommend this because dolphins are extremely unhappy in captivity and are killed in large numbers because of places like that.

Start now. It will take longer than you think.

El Paisano Hotel - Marfa, TX

I don’t care it if is the last prom on earth…

If you use Car2Go in Austin (or are considering it), you might be interested in this website. It’s a mobile version of the Car2Go car finder feature.

It’s an improved experience to their standard car finder for your computer, too, because it automatically shows cars near you.

(For iPhone, I use the app Go2Car. It works better than the Car2Go app, which despite the name isn’t an official application anyway.)

Nice work edireson…

I became a US Bank customer in 2003 when I moved to Ames, Iowa for college. I was lured into their Lincoln Way branch with the promise of a branded frisbee (or was it a water bottle?) if I opened a student checking account.

The initial supply of checks lasted until the fall of 2008, eventually exhausted by rent payments, utility bills and checks written to college roommates with subjects such as “For the BJ…thanks!”

(The final example above is one in a series of efforts to write a subject line so embarrassing, the receiving party wouldn’t have the nerve to cash it. Perhaps because my friends didn’t have much money, or perhaps because they had even less shame, this technique never once succeeded.)

When it was time to reorder, I chatted with Sarah and asked her to pick out new checks for me.

Me: Hey, respond to what I wrote about Argentina
Me: also pick out some checks for me
Me: I’ll buy whatever you pick
Me: checksinthemail.com
Me: swear it

Sarah: what’re these checks for
Sarah: personal use?

Me: Yeah
Me: personal
Me: not business
Me: god I wouldn’t let you do that 

Sarah: :-D

Me: not that I write checks to customers anyway  

Sarah: hm
Sarah: http://secure.checksinthemail.com/product.aspx?lineid=12&productid=1848
Sarah: whaddaya think?

Me: is it random kittens
Me: ?

Sarah: yeah kittens in purses n shit

Me: haha
Me: OK
Me: done

With check writing now limited to monthly rent, my supply of Rachel Hale kitten checks is still ample. And once monthly I get to look at a new kitten picture and smile. And be happy. Because why not have kitten checks, right?

Sarah’s first art show opens tomorrow in Dubuque, Iowa. Titled “Keep on the Sunny Side,” it’s a chance for Sarah to unveil what she was doing every day last fall in that barely furnished apartment near the UT campus.

There’s a Dave Eggers interview floating around the Internet this week that discusses “selling out.” Here Eggers discusses his literary magazine McSweeney’s:

McSweeney’s has no political goal. We only want to publish work that we like, and to do so with an attention to the craft of book and magazine production. Art made with mission statements is not art.

I don’t think Sarah paints to make a point. And I don’t think she has a grand mission. She just paints things that make her happy (like Trees in Love or Miss Peacock) in hopes that they’ll make other people happy. Kinda like bigger, prettier, more expensive Rachel Hale kitten checks…

Congratulations on your first show Sarah. I hope you sell out.

Who says you can’t run an ad agency out of a trailer in your backyard?

Your typical ad agency has guys in $550 suits working in a posh high-rise with glass walls, marble floors and polished mahogany tables.

Then there’s Big Blue Sky Creative, a two-man ad agency that operates out of a tiny travel trailer in Chad Swisher’s South Austin backyard.

“After all, it’s Austin, so why not?” said Chad, who bought the 14-foot, 8-inch ‘71 model Scotty for $650 about five years ago and fixed it up. He says it was “a hunk of junk” when he found it. 

What Chad calls the “reception area” consists of a new awning and two red lawn chairs by the trailer’s front door. 

via unconsumption and @smashadv

Photo credit: John Kelso, American-Statesman

A helpful little tool for Foursquare feuds.

23 and Me is a service that allows you to analyze your DNA. Through your DNA analysis, you can discover ancestry, genetic pre-dispositions to disease and a whole host of other interesting things about you and your body.

I’ve wanted to do this for over a year, but couldn’t justify the roughly $500 price tag. But on April 23rd, they had a $99 special under the guise of “DNA Day.”

Sold!

A week later, my kit arrived in the mail. I hocked a few loogies in a tube, sealed up the envelope and slid it into the blue postal box. Time to play the waiting game…

An email Monday night let me know the results were in. I logged in to 23 and Me and for the first time during the process, I felt a bit nervous. Warnings were frequent and ominous and several results were “locked” until I accepted a legal agreement.

When the results were revealed, however, my fears were assuaged. I discovered I was related to Warren Buffett (one of my heroes). I also have a lower than average risk for most major diseases.

The few health issues to which I’m more predisposed seem pretty benign. A speedy heartbeat and restless legs? I can live with that.

In summary: I have excellent genes ladies. Call me.

Our $100 day was nearly a month ago, but I had to “develop film,” then “scan pictures into my personal computer” and finally “upload photos to my personal weblog.” These things take time.

If I wasn’t so sick from eating half a container of Oreos, I’d do a $100 day every week.

“It’s laughably easy to find someone to critique a sentence, to find a missing apostrophe or worry about your noun-verb agreement.

Sometimes, you’re lucky enough to find someone who can tell you that a paragraph is dull, or out of place.

But finding people to rearrange the chapters, to criticize the very arc of what you’re building, to give you substantive feedback on your strategy—that’s insanely valuable and rare.”

via cesart

If you’re an Austinite and in need of a quick getaway, I submit for your consideration Krause Springs.

viafrank:

A lot of designers and creative folk that I know keep a morgue file, a folder of random elements that they find from old jobs that got killed, inspirational bits, torn images from magazines, and other scraps. In fact, a lot of these Tumblr blogs are just that.

I do a bit of that myself, but I keep what I perceive to be a more valuable, important morgue file: one made of the best writing on the web I come across. I take this list and revisit and reread it every 4 to 8 weeks. You could almost consider it a playlist of text: it’s very select (I artificially limit it to 10-15 articles), I typically read them all in one sitting, and the order and pacing is very purposeful. Most revolve around what it’s like to be making things in 2010, and a lot of the people that I respect the most have pieces in it. It’s almost a pep talk in text form. I visit it when I’m down, when I’m lazy, when I’m feeling the inertia take over.

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Frank Chimero is probably my favorite Tumblr / person right now.

Loretta Lynn - Happy Birthday

I’d put my money on Lynn as one of the best country lyricists of all time.

Well I know where you’re going and who’s gonna meet you there
I know how late you’ll be coming home but guess who doesn’t care
Tonight I’ll step out too and since I won’t be here
Happy birthday, merry Christmas and happy New Year

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Electric Light Orchestra - Mr. Blue Sky

It’s 90s and sunny this week in Austin. I’ve been playing Edward Sharp & the Magnetic Zeros a lot. This song happens to fall right after that album ends and is just fantastic for summer.

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I visit the burger joint close to my office so much, I’ve been accused of working there. But there’s a simple explanation:

Foursquare feud!

When I moved to Austin last fall, I had 4 or 5 Foursquare friends.

(Brief aside for those who aren’t nerds: Foursquare allows you to “checkin” at places you visit and alert your friends that you’re there. It’s sorta like a phone call for the lazy or a mass text message for the comatose. You can see a history of my checkins at the recently updated timhackbarth.com)

One of my early Austin friends was Jason Smith. And Jason, as his friends can attest, is fond of food that’s terrible for you. Actually, it would be more accurate to say he detests foods that provide nourishment to his body in any way.

Because of his dietary habits, Jason was known to frequent P Terry’s, a most excellent burger place on South Lamar and Barton Springs. He was even anointed “mayor” of P Terry’s, a designation given by Foursquare to the person who visits a venue most often.

Jason’s visits to P Terry’s became an easy joke among our friends…we even presented him with a gift certificate for his birthday. It was perhaps $15 or $20, I can’t remember. I do remember, however, that these gift certificates were vanquished by the next time we hung out.

Recently, I’ve been going to P Terry’s fairly regularly. I’ll read Instapaper and eat lunch alone, preparing for the workday ahead. At this point, I even have a regular order. If you’re vegetarian, I highly recommend it:

#5 (veggie burger meal) well-done with jalapeños on a wheat bun. And make sure to have the lemonade to drink because they make it fresh, so no HFCS.

As a result of my frequent visits, I replaced Jason as the mayor of P Terry’s in mid-April. He promptly texted me:

This will not stand.

But it HAS stood. And I rub it in at every opportunity, taunting Jason with checkins such as:

Whoa, they specifically mentioned I was ‘cooler than the previous mayor’

The lemonade tastes sweeter today for some reason

They’ve begun to address me as ‘Benevolent Dictator’

And my personal favorite:

Wow, mayors get blow jobs here!

To get back to the question at hand my dear Jen McNasty (is that Irish?), I don’t work at P Terry’s. But I go often because it’s delicious, it’s convenient and it gives me joy to know that I’m mayor and not Jason.

I purchased the domain SellingLove.com last night. Anyone want to fancy a guess as to what the idea is?

James Hunter - Carina

I should start compiling a mental catalog of songs that prominently feature a woman’s name…would come in handy for girlfriends, wedding DJ gigs or creeping out Whole Foods cashiers.

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I’ve never had a friend regret quitting a job they didn’t love.

In addition to a handcrafted thank you note, our SXSW guests sent a check totaling $100 for our hospitality. It was very sweet, if a bit too kind.

Rather than squirrel away their generosity, I’d like to use the money for more debauchery. Anyone who’d like to help should come over around 7pm tonight. We’ll sit down over a drink and decide how to best spend a hundred bucks. Then we’ll hit the town and do just that.

I have only one rule: we cannot spend money on anything that will still be around tomorrow morning.

If you have ideas on how we could spend $100 for a great Monday night, let me know! And if you’d like to join us…show up at 7. Everyone’s welcome.

This just changed my life.

Earlier this week I was offered $150 for the domain JFDI.

Said Robert, the offering party:

I am intrigued by it because I often use that exact phrase to get people to stop complaining about why they can’t do something!

I am new to this “buying domains thing” myself but I’ll put a stake in the ground - would you take $150 for it?

I replied to the effect of:

Let me sleep on it for a night…

Domains seem hard to price. They’re like a good pair of jeans. Not too expensive in the store, but once you find a good pair it’s hard to part with them at any price.

I’ve grown fond of that stupid little site and my microscopic Eastern European influence. I countered with “high hundreds” which was too expensive for Robert’s taste.

JFDI lives on…

Kudos to our lovely SXSW guests (Allison, Laura, Leah, Bridget & Kate) for the handcrafted thank you note.

I think this post makes a great addendum to On Cumulative Effects. It’s written by Leo Babauta and titled “The Only Thing You Can Change.” It’s published here courtesy of Uncopyright.

You can’t change your entire life.

You can only change your next action.

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You can’t change a relationship with a loved one.

You can only change your next interaction.

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You can’t change your entire job.

You can only change your next task.

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You can’t change your body composition.

You can only change your next meal.

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You can’t change your fitness level.

You can only start moving.

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You can’t declutter your entire life.

You can only choose to get rid of one thing, right now.

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You can’t eliminate your entire debt.

You can only make one payment, or buy one less unnecessary item.

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You can’t change the past, or control the future.

You can only change what you’re doing right now.

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You can’t change everything.

You can only change one, small thing.

And that’s all it takes.

Today is 4/20/2010.

If you don’t have an impending drug test or a morality rooted in temperance, you might consider smoking some marijuana this evening.

And for my readers who aren’t twenty-somethings in an urban area: No, I don’t know where you can buy weed. But I bet if you offer a five spot to the clerk at your nearest 7-11, he’ll guide you in the right direction.

My name’s Luke; I’m a college freshman, and I’d love to apply for a spot at Agent Pronto for this summer.  I know I’m late in the game, but I just saw your Craigslist ad today. You guys seem, to put it colloquially, crazy-legit.

Damn straight. Take that career services.

Suppose humans were born with magical buttons on their foreheads. When someone else pushes your button, it makes you very happy. But like tickling, it only works when someone else presses it. Imagine it’s easy to use. You just reach over, press it once, and the other person becomes wildly happy for a few minutes.

What would happen in such a world?

I worked at Mars Cafe in Des Moines at the beginning of my stay with Dane and Andy. I also overheard a girl picking up a guy (and a guy trying his hardest to sabotage his good fortune).

I spent a few days working on Pete’s porch in Chicago.

I worked with Allie at Bob’s Java Hut in Uptown Minneapolis. We drank too much coffee.

I edited an audio interview at Spider House Cafe in Austin on a Sunday afternoon. Matt sat across from me and read Ayn Rand to the chagrin of our server.

I worked outside at Green Muse Cafe in Austin on a warm Saturday in January.

I worked at the Griffith Observatory overlooking the famous Hollywood sign. The reception is spotty, but the view makes up for it.

I worked on Diamondhead Lake in Western Iowa. I also learned how to wakeboard.

I worked on the back porch (in Des Moines) by citronella. And I got organized (and excited) for the upcoming week.

I worked at Java Joes in downtown Des Moines. I also participated in a quid pro quo laptop supervision program, where I watch a laptop for the guy next to me…and he does the same in return an hour later. Thankfully, neither of us needed to use our laptop defense training…

I worked on a ledge outside Principal Park, home of the Iowa Cubs. I also got offered a free ticket to the game by a friendly passerby, but decided I’d rather work.