Writing to Reach You

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2011-05-09T12:51:00.001-07:00

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DEaR MAdM:

2010-10-10T21:16:00.000-07:00

I don't even want to be writing this. Usually this blog is reserved for things I want to say to complete and utter strangers, and in a lucky twist of fate, I guess I can't really keep you in that category any longer. There are pros and cons to you being in the category of 'complete and utter strangers,' chiefly that whatever I would normally write here would be normally untraceable. I'd be unaccountable for whatever bullshit dribbles out of my brain into my fingertips, and the world would continue to spin in all it's warbly glory with neither of us suffering any indignities.

Well, fuck that. Because I have met you now. And fuck me trying to stay anonymous with my thoughts or feelings. As a Pisces, I am *skilled* at feeling feelings. You, fellow Pisces, may know exactly what I mean when I say that-- and I'm the lucky and horrible position of feeling feelings since I met you a couple weeks ago. But don't freak out. It's not exactly because of you personally, though it would help me out if you had been less 'totally fucking awesome.'

Though I strive to be a miserable malcontent who is deeply and fundamentally pessimistic (!), I just can't help feeling love and hope and gratitude about being alive and sharing each second with other people who love to FEEL FEELINGS. Who love to connect. I am obsessed with music. I'm obsessed with playing music. I'm obsessed with Musicians. Artists in general. Anyone who feels feelings and somehow manages to complete the totally mysterious process of turning feelings and thoughts into something intangible and unquantifiable. The alchemists of my world, of which you are among my absolute favorites. The people who can be as far away from me as physically possible, yet whose work can effortlessly slice through the thickest armor I own to touch a part of me that has literally no physicality. Oh brother, feeling feelings INDEED. How do I type this stuff with a straight face?! The essence of this is that it matters to me to have connected with you personally and to have attempted-- mostly through a few small acts of kindness, trustworthiness, chivalry, and what I cringe at calling generosity-- to momentarily repay you for all you have put on the line. Above all else, I consider myself a patron of your work-- having been there from the start, I intend on being there until the end. It matters to me, it MEANS something to me, to have the chance to return the favor, the art, the light, the heart...

You matter. Your work matters. I told you I was proud of you and I meant it and I mean it. I hope you are proud of yourself, and-- selfishly-- I hope you are HUNGRY for more. The music biz is now the Wild West-- I know there's a way for you to strike gold on your own little parcel of land in your own territory where you can establish a perfect little mining town where your work feeds the township in a perfectly symbiotic manner...

Needless to say, I would move there in a heartbeat and open the Saloon that serves the OOOMlands. ;)

If there was a more dramatic way to say thank you, I'd say it... knowing me, i'll just try saying it another way in a month or so...

a bientôt...

Dear Tiger!!!

2009-12-07T19:55:00.000-08:00

I want you to know that I feel guilty, because I took a little delight in the unraveling of this story... there is nothing delightful about it-- and I'm sorry for everyone involved. As a human being, you made your choices and you probably deserve whatever consequences come your way-- but... I can't shake the feeling of how your fame takes this story into a whole other realm...

...you OUGHT to be able to fuck up in private, but you can't. That sucks, and I feel sorry for you that your fuckups are world news. My fuck ups only go to 100 people if I've done something really shitty. I'm going to stop paying attention this this story, so that you know there is at least one person in the world who is trying to see you as a human being, a flawed man... someone at the "top" who was just a target for to be torn down.

I mean, you're also an idiot. Best of luck to you and your family.

Dear MJ

2009-07-07T22:53:00.000-07:00

I didn't know I would cry over you.

I did, finally, shed tears tonight watching the highlights of your friends and family's amazing tributes to you today at Staples Center... I felt so sad inside-- not just because you'd died, Michael-- but because of the crazy way that we all forced you to live.

I'm so sorry for that.

I cried tonight not out of sadness that you are gone; I cried because of how amazing and beautiful it is to see so many people around the world-- millions of people, Michael!-- come together... bound by the power of music and how it fundamentally changes and improves peoples lives. Cynics and sourpusses can say what they want, but the fact is that you... single-handedly changed the world. In leaving the world so soon, you left a lot of joy behind-- and that, like your music, lives on and on...

Peace,
me

Dear Britney Spears,

2008-12-06T20:36:00.000-08:00

I watched your documentary this week. I applaud you for doing it, for trying to set the record straight. I'm left, however, with the feeling that there is nothing to leave straight-- because this story, your story, is still being played out. I don't think you're at the end of something-- I think you're still in the middle of it. The story is still being played out...which makes it all the more ballsy for you to release this film.

I want you to know that I am pulling for you. I've got no other way to send that to you than posting it in some rarely observed corner of the blogosphere. I hope that time brings you all the peace and knowledge that you want or need. No one should have to endure what you're enduring, and honestly-- not many people could survive it. Good on you for surviving and for fighting on.

But you might need a pretty big change to break you out of whats kept you down... don't be afraid to risk it all. We'd rather you disappear and live a happy life than continuing to trade your happiness for a job.

Re-Published From a Dying Blog

2008-12-03T17:06:00.001-08:00

Britney.

Oh Brit... I watched your doc last night, and I'm just so sorry. I was equally devastated by M's cosmetic work as I was by how lonely and lost you seem to be. Sending you well wishes; also, please avoid Botox.

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Dear Madonna,

2008-11-23T01:44:00.001-08:00

I have so much to say to you it won't fit here, but suffice to say-- you BLEW my mind.

4x.

I WILL have my revenge.

Insert 'BLOW' joke here, btw.

Dear Sarah Palin,

2008-10-09T08:12:00.000-07:00

Though I feel sorry for you-- awfully sorry, so sorry-- I want to thank you.

Without you, I wouldn't have re-fallen in luv with Tina Fey, the most brilliant bitch on the face of the planet.

And I owe it all to you, Sarah Palin.

I resent that you and I share the same name, but at least we spell it right.

Now you may return to Alaska. Forever.

Dear Jennifer Saunders and Dawn French,

2008-09-22T13:13:00.000-07:00

When you think the news can't get any worse-- I find today that the two of you are retiring the olde "French & Saunders" act. Why do I care? I live in the States, and getting ahold of your work (as a team and as, er, solo artists) is no easy feat. I am comforted only by the advent of the region-free DVD player, with which my odds at watching you two dramatically increase.

Blah blah blah, yep-- I'm complaining. Wasting time, no less, when what I OUGHT to be doing is thanking you for making me lose count of the number of times I have laughed my ass off watching you-- and for the few times when I have possibly gotten a little teary eyed. Possibly.

Thank you. Best wishes to you both in your lives after French & Saunders. I'm off to form a Lananeeneenoonoo tribute band-- see you at Wembley, then.

Dear Travis Barker,

2008-09-22T13:11:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was in line at my local grocery store listening to the clerk and customers ahead of me having a light and cheery conversation about plane crashes and burning to death. It was uplifting, I tell ya. When I got up to the clerk, I couldn't help but say something snarky about what a positive and enlightening conversation, which is when he told me that "some rock star" was in a plane crash. I started flipping through my mental rolodex of rock stars, wondering who it was-- and then the clerk said, "the drummer from blink-182."

JAW DROP.

I drove the whole way home thinking you had died-- he never told me that you survived the crash. Suddenly, hearing that you'd been horribly burned was good news, since it meant you were- miraculously- ALIVE.

I'm sending you and AM all the good thoughts and best wishes I have for your recovery. I'm sending all the good thoughts and best wishes I have to your families and friends. Especially, I'm sending all the good thoughts and best wishes I have to the families of the 4 folks we lost in the crash.

Thanks for all the fantastic inspiration behind the drumkit-- I'm trying to repay you with some kind of prayer...

xoxo