Happy Chanukah, People!

Damn. Did I miss it? I’m a bad Jew.

I knew it was Chanukah. I got one candle lighting in. It was late in the game so it was more exciting. Day 7. Seven candles. No build up. Boom.

I tried to do stuff around the house over the weekend. Even if I have a list I can’t seem to do any of them all the way through. I circle around. I start some of the stuff on the list and other things are folded in and the rotation becomes bigger. Then, a box is delivered or I get distracted. Have to open it and whatever is in there has to be rotated in.

The idea was to get the office in the house set up. By set up I mean file all the stuff that is in piles on the floors and get that out of the way and neat. Then, start putting stuff in my desk. This is so the room looks like it functions and doesn’t just become a storage room for a growing pile of papers and things that are in ‘do I need all this shit’ limbo. That stuff is all over the house. I don’t really know where it all comes from. People and companies send me shit. Books, records, weird gifts, big ideas. I look at them. Put them on a table or the floor and they enter the realm of ‘do I need all this shit’ limbo. Stuff can stay there for years. 

I guess my point is I started filing things and I got lost in ‘do I need all this shit’ limbo and that can be overwhelming. Looking at papers. Bank statements. Insurance shit. Pay stubs. Receipts for stuff that happened a long time ago. Birth certificate. Deed to old house. Two marriage licenses (both void). A folder of panic papers and aggressive documentation of the actions I had to execute when my identity was stolen. Song lyrics. Notes from interviews. Can you feel what I was feeling?


What can or can’t I throw away. I filed what I could and then stepped away. Need another file box.

Then a box came. A new litter box. I didn’t think my cats would go in a covered box and they did so I got another one. Then I entered the litter changing, box set-up, wonder if they’ll still go in there if I put a mat out on the floor in front of it loop. Settled that. Broke down some boxes. Then I remembered I wanted to glue something.

Some old Mexican hand-carved winged monkey tchotchke I’ve had forever lost its wings. They were just lying there. Had to glue that. I had two winged monkeys. One I threw away. Irreparable. Artifacts from trips with women who are no longer in my life. Wives. They aren’t triggers. They are barely reminders at this point. Just stuff I am afraid to throw away. I feel like I go through this every few years.

Another box came. It was an old-style steamer I ordered. The kind that opens like a metal flower that you set at the bottom of a pot. I had silicone one but it smelled like dishwasher soap and I couldn’t get it out and I couldn’t handle it anymore. Kale with a hint of dish soap. Not great. The new one was the wrong size. Had to angrily order a larger one. Not pricey enough to return the other one. More stuff. I’ll have two now. See. It keeps coming.

Physical representation of mistakes of different kinds around the house. Throwing them away doesn’t erase the mistake but at the very least you aren’t reminded of them every time you see it. Keep them around. Sometimes you need to be reminded.

Just ordered a new file box.

Today on the show I talk to Jeff Daniels about Aaron Sorkin’s adaptation of Harper Lee’s ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ that is now on Broadway. We talk about other stuff. Great talk. We did it in an old beautiful office upstairs at The Shubert Theatre in NYC. On Thursday I have an engaged, meandering conversation about life and art and stuff with Maggie Gyllenhaal. Great talks!


Boomer lives!