This past weekend I went upstate with three of my best friends, plus four others I knew in varying capacities – a total of eight of us. Saturday was a complete washout, and we spent it inside our really beautiful Airbnb, leaving only for a late afternoon trip to Dia: Beacon. The group was partially offended by Robert Ryman’s exhibition of mostly plain white paintings. Consider this a rec for a day trip by train from Grand Central to Dia: Beacon (you can walk from the train to the museum), but any discourse about provocative art will be tabled for another time.
On the Lord’s day, the sun shined high and bright through the trees encircling our mid-century masterpiece. One thing I particularly loved about this house is the height of the main floor. The living room and office/library (which Rachel and I occupied as our bedroom) both look out into the surrounding forest from about 15 feet high – the deck obstructing the base of the trees, giving the sense that you are truly in the treetops. Not even the most memorable hikes I’ve been on award this view.
The only clouds in the sky were the overhead aircraft contrails. And with a day off the next day, it was our goal to get outside and, let’s say, explore our minds a bit. As is generally the case with these sorts of “experiences,” the first half of the day was categorized by collective chortles and fixations on ideas and things in nature that would otherwise be ignored, at best.
As dusk approached and all the laughs had been emptied from my belly, groups essentially paired off and conversations turned more esoteric. One of the best friends told me a story of a recent “exchanging of blows,” if you will, where his longtime friend sat him down and told him “Hey, friend. I’m going to give you my read on you and then you’re going to do the same for me.” He said this was a major turning point in their friendship. Having presented the idea, I let him go first and wow, his read was spot-on. Our conversation was interrupted before I had my go, though I wasn’t necessarily jonesing to “take a swing,” I was deep inside my own head processing his.
As we were interrupted, I told the interrupter the story that was just shared with me and our discussion headed another direction. Later that evening, winding down and rehashing the day, the interrupter (also a best friend) told me he hoped that one day we could do a similar exercise. I told him I was not “emotionally available” for that at that very moment, but in the future, for sure.
There is a really great video of J*e R*gan telling his friend, UFC fighter Brendan Schaub, that he thinks he should stop fighting (sorry for the weird edit, only one I can find). Years later, Brendan goes back on the show and thanks Joe for the intervention. I’ve been aware of this conversation for years and always admired that dynamic, but despite my general candor, it’s clear I was not actively participating in conversations like this with my close friends.
I continued to chat with the interrupter and, while we didn’t get to the ceremonial mutual socking, he shared a bit of a conversation he had just had with [other best friend] about me. It was nothing I didn’t already know about myself, but hearing it from my best friends, specifically that they discussed it in private, was incredibly powerful. Overwhelmed by the emotion of that experience and gratitude for my friends who care enough about me to share their unfiltered thoughts with me, I cried because I needed to hear what they said about me more than I knew.
Guy Fieri, Elder Statesman of Flavortown
This weirdly came into my view because someone posted it on the Bourdain subreddit, conflicted that some of Tony’s friends spoke so highly of Mr. “fee-ED-ee,” when Tony himself semeed to be far from a fan. “The guy who just dropped a 500-seat deuce into Times Square.” I really like finding out that people I’m not necessarily a fan of are generally respected. Like when a legend passes and all of the people you’re a fan of come out and express how much that legend inspired them. I think this quote from Andrew Zimmern sums it up nicely: “He seeks to understand rather than be understood,” Mr. Zimmern said, “which I think is as high a compliment as I can give.”
—Andrew
Olympus, Texas
I just started this book and already can’t wait to pick it back up again. A while back I realized I was reading too many books about upper middle class New Yorkers and their ilk (think Gary Shteyngart’s Lake Success and Andrew Sean Greer’s Less). I really enjoyed them, but they also reinforced my bubble. Olympus, Texas is not that. While it’s still early going, I’m impressed by the muscular plot and rich setting.
—Justin
Mitch Hedberg on Late Night With Conan O’Brien
The late Hedberg is easily one of my top 5 standup comedians of all time, so I was thrilled when this Conan performance appeared as a recommended watch on YouTube. The comedy is so dry and yet so sharp. Every couple of years, I end up going down a Hedberg rabbit hole and am grateful for the reminder that I’m overdue for a journey.
—Justin