Somehow I though Spring would be greener. But it was light before 6 am this morning so I AM TAKING THE WINS WHERE I CAN. Do you know what else is a win? Having slightly pushy friends that kick you in the ass when you feel like wallowing in phlegm…
Everyone loves a corporate-manufactured holiday, right? Another chance to forget to buy something no one really needs to somehow prove you love someone else? An additional opportunity to generate more clutter to later Marie Kondo and end up in the landfill? NEVER FEAR! I am here to save the day!…
It’s hard to learn a new song when you can’t stop singing RENT from beginning to end. I’m not going to say that Fox’s live production was the best thing I’ve ever seen. (I also won’t say it was the worst. Nor that I wish my house was less insulated.) But I still kinda loved it.
Honestly? I just fucking love RENT.
In college, I was dating a guy almost equally obsessed with musicals as this jazz-hands addict. We drove up to NYC during Christmas break, arriving at around midnight. We parked in the lot on 42nd st immediately across from the exit from the Lincoln Tunnel, walked to the Nederlander Theatre on 41st, and sat our asses down at the end of the line that was already forming for the $20 lottery tickets for the next day’s show.
We took turns going into the deli on the corner to warm up and use the loo. The rest of the time we watched this giant neon sign that covered the entire side of a building with the words, “Too Much Is Not Enough.” The lights flashed in a rotating pattern. First it would scroll slowly from left to right. “T-o-o-M-u-c-h-I-s-N-o-t-E-n-o-u-g-h.” Then it would split the phrase in two. “TooMuch IsNotEnough.” Then it would end with an extra bright flash of all the words at once. “TOOMUCHISNOTENOUGH.”
By sunrise, we were too hopped up on caffeine and sugar to sleep, but so cold and tired we flittered with delirium, reading the words aloud as they lit up. “T-o-o-M-u-c-h-I-s-N-o-t-E-n-o-u-g-h,” was a slow, whispered drawl. “TooMuch,” was like a question, an inflection at the end. “IsNotEnough,” was a louder, bolder declaration. Then we’d shout at the top of our lungs racing to see who could finish the phrase faster, “TOOMUCHISNOTENOUGH!”
So, dear reader, next time you’re wondering if technology is killing your brain and that we are all lemmings forever attached to our phones and limiting our potential, please remember this example of how one passed idle time BEFORE cell phones. Then go back to scrolling through your Insta stories.
Oh! One more thing before we get to the actual ukeing. Alex and Michael had some feelings about this new NY abortion law, so obviously, a new McSweeney’s needed to happen. You can find it here.
And now to the ukulele! I know we’re still a few weeks away from Valentine’s Day, but I seem to be stuck on these flapper love songs, lately. It’s like I’m frozen in time. But really, I’m just frozen. I’ve never been gladder to not live in Minnesota.