Now with addendum!
"Lady. Malkmus is coming to the station tomorrow. I just found out this
morning. Can I have a whoop-whoop? How about 5, no 10, no, a moment or two
with the man?! I know, I know...jerk. But shit. I like this one."
That's an e-mail I got yesterday from a friend of mine who works at KCRW (the LA public station that airs "Morning Becomes Eclectic"). This is the e-mail exchange that followed today.
L: he's here.
anyone got any tips on how I'm supposed to breathe? I can't remember. What
about this shaking thing. How do you walk when you shake like that?
S: Well, first off, if you're going to act crazy, you might as well take off
your shirt. At least then you can say, "Stephen Malkmus looked at my boobs
as I was being escorted out of the building!"
Secondly, just think of all of the guys you know in their late 30s, in
bands, who have infant daughters. Lots, right? He's just like them.
Except, um, brilliant and holy.
Third suggestion: Pretend you're a spy. Make sure you watch him out of the
corner of your eye, very surreptitiously, so you can place yourself at
some point in a position where he absoutely HAS to talk to you first.
Like, unscrew and hide all the faucet handles in the men's room, and then
hide in a stall until he tries to wash his hands.
Fourth suggestion: Just walk up to him and, to paraphrase Counterwave,
tell him you know a word that rhymes with "pavement": Enslavement. Then
offer up your wrists. Hint: This works best if you're topless.
And finally: Cameraphone! Cameraphone!!
L: FUCK! I LOVE YOU!
I'm printing this out and while I tell him I took the bus (this is a joke about the time I met Ann Magnuson --ed.), I'll let him know this is from you.
God bless.
S: And heaven bless YOU, my child, for remembering that "we took the bus" story.
FYI, I'm nearly as nervous as you are right now. Please keep me up to date.
L: Ok. Here's one. He's in what we call the red room RIGHT BEHIND ME! I didn't
even really notice he was in there until I heard him chatting on his phone.
His cell phone rings like mine. The old ring ring kind.
I'm so glad you're nervous too! What the hell is this shit?! HELLO! I've
met famous people, I see them here ALL THE TIME! And I'm even an official
adult with wrinkles! Why is this happening?
S: Because he is someone you wanted to screw/marry/travel with/write songs with more than just about anyone, back when you were of a more impressionable age. It's the same thing as when you hang out with your family, and all of a sudden you feel 10 years old again. It's hard to think of him as human, as someone who you could just say something normal to. But you probably could. Don't even say anything about Pavement or music. (Although you could ask him when the new Silver Jews record's coming out, for me.) Ask him if he's done any crosswords lately. Ask him what he thinks of the new book of Jack Gilbert poems. Ask him what he thinks of the Michael Jackson verdict!!!
My new housemate is a total Pavementhead, so I've been completely indulging myself lately. (It doesn't hurt that the new record's so good). We just hung a totally HOT pic of SM on our fridge, and he says things with magnetic poetry. Right now he's saying, "Perhaps I did it all for the howly chicken?!"
Ask him how much howly chicken he needs.
I'm going to lunch. I want at least ten more emails waiting for me when I return. ;o)
L: I'm taking the fucking bus! I'm taking the fucking bus! HELP!
OK. What I've decided is if I just continue to geek out and can't hit for
the team, it's fucking ok. Then I'll enjoy myself so much more.
S: That's a perfectly reasonable decision.
L: I took the bus! I took the bus! I took horrible pictures too! I look so
Jewish! It's fucking horrible! BUT I DID IT! I told him I'm actually much
more mature than what's happening but it's YOU! And he laughed and he said,
"Yeah, you do look mature - you've got the glasses." And then we took
pictures and then chuckled some more, I continued to not be able to talk
and asked him if he remembers me giving or at least getting a Rhino Nuggets
Sampler at the Long Beach Art Festival show many years ago and he did! I
told him, him coming in was a perk of working at the station. He liked that
too. I said, thanks man and left. Smiled a whole fucking lot. Wow. Cellular
Memory.
So many more things he and I need to review - there's Paris and Rome and
Swiss Alps. There's shopping at Barney's and decorating the house. But that
will stay in the fantasy boat.
Glad you're here Lady.
LATE-BREAKING UPDATE:
L. sent me pictures today, but I'm not allowed to post them. SM looks kinda high (shocking!!) and the ends of his hair are doing this little flippy thing that makes him look late-period Carol Brady. L. says she looks like she's meeting Mickey Mouse, and I concur. In the first photo she appears as if she's about to puke; in the second she's broken out in a giant, helpless grin.
And she wanted me to add this:
Daily Overview for June 14, 2005
Provided by Astrology.com Daily Extended Forecast
Quickie:
Cut that chatter and cut to the chase. You'll need to work to make yourself
clear.
Overview:
Cut through the baloney in all areas. Ask people directly what they want,
and insist on a direct answer; say what you mean, and mean what you say.
You'll simplify things immeasurably (and be thanked profusely in the end).
morning. Can I have a whoop-whoop? How about 5, no 10, no, a moment or two
with the man?! I know, I know...jerk. But shit. I like this one."
That's an e-mail I got yesterday from a friend of mine who works at KCRW (the LA public station that airs "Morning Becomes Eclectic"). This is the e-mail exchange that followed today.
L: he's here.
anyone got any tips on how I'm supposed to breathe? I can't remember. What
about this shaking thing. How do you walk when you shake like that?
S: Well, first off, if you're going to act crazy, you might as well take off
your shirt. At least then you can say, "Stephen Malkmus looked at my boobs
as I was being escorted out of the building!"
Secondly, just think of all of the guys you know in their late 30s, in
bands, who have infant daughters. Lots, right? He's just like them.
Except, um, brilliant and holy.
Third suggestion: Pretend you're a spy. Make sure you watch him out of the
corner of your eye, very surreptitiously, so you can place yourself at
some point in a position where he absoutely HAS to talk to you first.
Like, unscrew and hide all the faucet handles in the men's room, and then
hide in a stall until he tries to wash his hands.
Fourth suggestion: Just walk up to him and, to paraphrase Counterwave,
tell him you know a word that rhymes with "pavement": Enslavement. Then
offer up your wrists. Hint: This works best if you're topless.
And finally: Cameraphone! Cameraphone!!
L: FUCK! I LOVE YOU!
I'm printing this out and while I tell him I took the bus (this is a joke about the time I met Ann Magnuson --ed.), I'll let him know this is from you.
God bless.
S: And heaven bless YOU, my child, for remembering that "we took the bus" story.
FYI, I'm nearly as nervous as you are right now. Please keep me up to date.
L: Ok. Here's one. He's in what we call the red room RIGHT BEHIND ME! I didn't
even really notice he was in there until I heard him chatting on his phone.
His cell phone rings like mine. The old ring ring kind.
I'm so glad you're nervous too! What the hell is this shit?! HELLO! I've
met famous people, I see them here ALL THE TIME! And I'm even an official
adult with wrinkles! Why is this happening?
S: Because he is someone you wanted to screw/marry/travel with/write songs with more than just about anyone, back when you were of a more impressionable age. It's the same thing as when you hang out with your family, and all of a sudden you feel 10 years old again. It's hard to think of him as human, as someone who you could just say something normal to. But you probably could. Don't even say anything about Pavement or music. (Although you could ask him when the new Silver Jews record's coming out, for me.) Ask him if he's done any crosswords lately. Ask him what he thinks of the new book of Jack Gilbert poems. Ask him what he thinks of the Michael Jackson verdict!!!
My new housemate is a total Pavementhead, so I've been completely indulging myself lately. (It doesn't hurt that the new record's so good). We just hung a totally HOT pic of SM on our fridge, and he says things with magnetic poetry. Right now he's saying, "Perhaps I did it all for the howly chicken?!"
Ask him how much howly chicken he needs.
I'm going to lunch. I want at least ten more emails waiting for me when I return. ;o)
L: I'm taking the fucking bus! I'm taking the fucking bus! HELP!
OK. What I've decided is if I just continue to geek out and can't hit for
the team, it's fucking ok. Then I'll enjoy myself so much more.
S: That's a perfectly reasonable decision.
L: I took the bus! I took the bus! I took horrible pictures too! I look so
Jewish! It's fucking horrible! BUT I DID IT! I told him I'm actually much
more mature than what's happening but it's YOU! And he laughed and he said,
"Yeah, you do look mature - you've got the glasses." And then we took
pictures and then chuckled some more, I continued to not be able to talk
and asked him if he remembers me giving or at least getting a Rhino Nuggets
Sampler at the Long Beach Art Festival show many years ago and he did! I
told him, him coming in was a perk of working at the station. He liked that
too. I said, thanks man and left. Smiled a whole fucking lot. Wow. Cellular
Memory.
So many more things he and I need to review - there's Paris and Rome and
Swiss Alps. There's shopping at Barney's and decorating the house. But that
will stay in the fantasy boat.
Glad you're here Lady.
LATE-BREAKING UPDATE:
L. sent me pictures today, but I'm not allowed to post them. SM looks kinda high (shocking!!) and the ends of his hair are doing this little flippy thing that makes him look late-period Carol Brady. L. says she looks like she's meeting Mickey Mouse, and I concur. In the first photo she appears as if she's about to puke; in the second she's broken out in a giant, helpless grin.
And she wanted me to add this:
Daily Overview for June 14, 2005
Provided by Astrology.com Daily Extended Forecast
Quickie:
Cut that chatter and cut to the chase. You'll need to work to make yourself
clear.
Overview:
Cut through the baloney in all areas. Ask people directly what they want,
and insist on a direct answer; say what you mean, and mean what you say.
You'll simplify things immeasurably (and be thanked profusely in the end).